#like. shirtless scenarios which are few n far between

[dawnedon]

also i rly want someone to see dawn’s Big scar but it takes such specific scenarios for it to be like, Out There 😔

[lavendertales]

Shameless sanctuary || Ezra x f!reader**

summary: you have a wish you want to inflict upon Ezra and luckily, he’s all about indulging you.

word count: 2.5k

WARNINGS: blowjob, masturbation (male), pegging, blindfolding.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: dedicated to my love @katronautt I love you more than I can actually spell out so I hope you enjoy!

gif: @din-djarn 

You take a deep breath and try—almost too desperately furious with yourself—to ease your mind. To no immediate avail. You stare rather fearfully at the piece of cloth in your hands, soft to the touch and sliding gently in between your sweaty fingers. You shouldn’t be this nervous. After all, this is Ezra. Your Ezra. A man who’s been far and beyond and still eager to explore new things and have his mind opened to new possibilities. He would understand.

Sure he’d understand. But would he like it?

What if he doesn’t like it?

You couldn’t let go of that embarrassing memory if that was the case.

Alright, settle down. You got this.

The cloth gets crinkled in your hands as you make a fist in your attempt to hide it. The other object remains hidden behind your back, stomach the size of a peanut. You finally knock on the door, heart thumping in your chest with excitement. The waiting only prolongs the feeling, having you envision plenty of scenarios in which you get to have your way with him, and him finally obeying, writhing beneath you as you please him—

Ezra’s shirtless body is suddenly before you, skin glistening with water drops. He was just getting in the shower, you realize. Something inside of you trembles, nearly twitches with desire.

“Hi.”

“Birdie.”

It takes a lot of willpower to not moan right then in there, so you swallow any sounds as you try to formulate your thoughts into coherent asks.

“Did I interrupt anything?”

“Nothing at all. I was only about to rinse today’s sweat off of me.”

“Ah.”

Always so poetical and magical with words, you chuckle. He could make even the labels on food packages sound mesmerizing.

Nervousness ostensibly seeps through your every pore, reminding you of your prior excitement. Ezra shuts the door behind you and welcomes you in the bedroom instead with what appears to be a much too kind smirk.

“Feel free to join me if you’d like,” he offers.

If? You want to shout.

But he sees you gulp, your neck swollen with unsaid words that you try so ardently to stifle. It’s a rather pleasurable sight to him. He can easily read you, he can easily tell what’s on your mind, and unfortunately, Ezra feels like you will decline his offer if he’s going to take your facial expression as the sole indicator.

“Yes, I’ll—I’ll do that,” you respond eventually, pleasantly surprising Ezra.

You smile at each other for a few seconds yet, despite the craving of losing the towel immediately, Ezra tugs on the material as he goes back into the bathroom, the impending feeling of an erection nearly sneaking up on him.

“Ezra?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“I have an idea. Forget the shower for now.”

You taking control of yourself and your wishes is a sight that gets Ezra achingly hard as if on command. He returns to the bedroom, his dark eyes curiously inspecting you and noticing the two items you hold secret behind your back. To say he’s intrigued is an understatement.

“Do share with me.”

His low voice, paired with the lewd image before you gets you all worked up just as much. There is no more insecurity on your face, Ezra remarks. Something else entirely resides on your superb skin. Something more profound, a craving that would set your body afire. And Ezra was absolutely convinced he was ready to give you everything you wanted from him.

You finally reveal the cloth in your hands and the strap-on. Ezra smirks and cocks an eyebrow at the two items, then at you, eyes filled with lust and eagerness.

He was right. He’s beyond intrigued. He feels downright needy.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” you admit.

Ezra gestures you to approach him as he loses the towel at last and you gulp.

“Can I?”

“Since when this need to require permission, my sweet birdie?”

You shrug. “Maybe you don’t want to. Maybe you won’t like it.”

“I enjoy anything you provide me with. Anything and anywhere.”

The words he so smugly places emphasis on have you weak in the knees and for a moment you forget about your master plan. Staring at him in all of his nude splendor feels like an effervescent dream.

Ezra smiles, thus reassuring you, and he gets on the bed, as if intuiting your mental command.

“How do you want me, birdie?”

“On your back. That’s good.”

You take yourself by surprise at how simple it is to order him around and how thick the tension feels, like this is the first time for the both of you. Only it’s not. There have been plenty of filthy moments shared between you two before, and the tension always remains the same.

Ezra smiles again, legs spread apart and hands at the back of his head, waiting patiently. You smile as well and, with no more reluctance to guide you, you take the black silk and tie it around his head, strong enough to not fall.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, licking your lips in anticipation.

“Yes.”

His answer blindsides you. You know he’s well experienced and versatile when it comes to carnal pleasures, yet somehow this still takes you aback.

“I haven’t enjoyed anyone without my sight involved though, I will admit to that,” he chuckles.

Well. At the very least you give him something he hasn’t had before.

But if he’s done this before, then it will be easier. In theory.

“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask as you fumble to get the lube.

“More than I trust my own self, sweet birdie.”

Ezra isn’t used to his eyesight being taken away from him, but as he takes a few deep breaths and wait, he starts to realize that it feels enticing. He knows what to expect, and yet the delivery is what makes his skin burn with curiosity and need. It adds to the buildup of it all, leaves to the imagination and – holy hell, he enjoys that a lot.

He grunts in the slightest when he feels your lips pressed against his thighs, peppering kisses from the inside and working their trail further up. His cock nearly weeps, begging for attention, but he begs of nothing. Each kiss carries a certain tenderness to it, yet they are all decisive and they shatter Ezra’s mind in thousands of pieces.

Then a few additional thousands of pieces are ripped away from Ezra’s mind as you gently bite on his skin, earning an unexpected moan from him. He even feels flustered to some extent, and more so grateful for the blindfold. The fact that he’s visually impaired for now makes him frustrated and aroused alike, a lethal combination that his body can barely handle.

His hands roam around in hopes of holding onto something and they land in your hair right as your lips press a kiss to the tip of his cock, by now swollen and about to burst. You take him in your mouth and begin to bop your head up and down, lathering it with your saliva. The only sounds are Ezra’s guttural moans and the somewhat obscene sounds you made while sucking him off. Suddenly, words have fled from his mind completely; he can’t think of anything worthwhile to say. But maybe that’s good. Words are not worthwhile right now.

His breaths get ragged the faster you take him in your mouth, and he finds it so difficult to not shift his hips forward, just a little, so he can properly fuck your mouth. He has to remind himself that this isn’t about him. This is about what you desire to do, what you want, and he has to sit and take it.

Fuck, that’s a thought. He has to take whatever you give to him, however you give it to him. Oh, fuck.

The mere thought has his orgasm build in his stomach and he tries to move you aside, push you away. He doesn’t want to cum like this. But again, this isn’t about him. And he’s always been weak when it comes to your mouth in general, let alone when it applies such a deviously sweet torture to his cock. He’s squirming and battling inner demons intruding his thoughts. The more you suck him off, the more he wants to shoot his load down your throat and hear you nearly choke on it, but he has to trust you and the process. You know what you’re doing.

And, as if guessing his inner struggle, you stop, licking your lips afterwards. You feel terribly good, filled with power and arousal so much so that you’re almost shocked at your own dominance. The possibilities right now seem endless. Anything and anywhere, Ezra told you. That sure paints quite the picture. But you remember what prompted all of this and take a deep breath.

The main act is about to start.

The lube is on your left, ready to be used. The strap-on is fixed around your waist. You stare at Ezra, knowing he’s on the verge of exploding, but still you admire his patience. He hasn’t begged or plead for anything, and on the one hand, you are grateful. But on the other, you can’t help but also be a little disappointed. Some deep, dark part of you wants him to beg for you, beg for release at your mercy. Nonetheless, you cast that aside and lean down to kiss him. Ezra grunts into the kiss, his hands entangled in your hair as the kiss deepens, his mouth welcoming yours in its hot caverns, tongues gliding against each other in a filthy waltz. The taste is a little salty and so hot he could burst right now, purely overwhelmed. You work your magic so intimately and well, he can’t help it.

When you break the kiss, just as sudden as you had initiated it, Ezra feels a little disappointed. But he also knows that it will all be rewarded and worth it.

“I want to hear every sound you can give me,” you tell him in a sultry, dark voice that sends shivers down his spine. “Is that clear?”

You pour some lube onto him, the liquid taking Ezra by surprise, but his heart jumping in his chest with excitement.

“I said, is that clear?”

You wrap your hand around his cock, not moving it an inch, and Ezra trembles.

“Yes, birdie.”

Fuck, he’s so submissive, you think. It’s more than just arousing, it’s simply so pleasurable just to see the image. You stroke him a few times, prolonging his pain, then you align yourself to his entrance, anticipating the collision just as much as he did.

You slide in, gently and carefully, examining his bodily response up close. He grunts in ecstasy at the first touch, the first feeling of the strap-on penetrating inside of him. No pain detected, which is nothing if not a good sign. You pull out and push back in with a little more confidence, burying yourself as deep as you possibly can, holding onto his legs. Ezra’s voice gets coarser with each thrust you give him and he starts to moan relentlessly. After the first few experimental thrusts, you regain your cockiness, the previous dominance seated deep within your core now, and you start to pound into him.

It feels surreal; the rhythm of your hips slamming against his is fast and needy and Ezra’s moans are in accordance to it. Usually it’s the other way around but this time, knowing you are able to get such sounds out of him, to have such control over him… fuck, your cunt aches and you swear you could make a mess on the bed if it wasn’t for the strap-on.

“You’re doing—good, baby,” you smile, watching his body rock beneath you as you keep slamming your hips into his.

“Will you—let me t-touch—touch myself, birdie?”

“Say—my name first—loudly—“

And so he does. He says your name over and over again, downright screams it when he feels like he’s going to cum, and then you smile.

“Oh, f-fuck—fucking h-hell—“

Hearing him cuss out loud, unable to contain himself, makes your pride swollen in you. You bite on your lower lip, now trying to go as fast as you can. Your only goal right now is to see him make a mess all over himself and, why not, over you if possible. You want to see him lose himself completely.

“You can touch yourself now, baby—“

Even you speak with difficulty. When Ezra takes himself in hand, he cusses again, moaning your name like it is the only word he knows how to say. It’s a concoction of moans and huffs and the image of you pounding into him while he’s jerking off is honestly enough to make even you cum.

But you don’t. You keep going, thrusting deeper and deeper until you feel like Ezra will break. Your name becomes like a prayer leaving his lips and his hand wrapped around his cock moves just as fast as you do, eager to finally let go.

It doesn’t take that long. Or so he feels. Time is relative, truth be told. With a few more thrusts, a few more praises from you and a few more strokes on his aching cock, Ezra comes at last, spilling himself all over his abdomen. He nearly screams as the sweet release washes over him with the force of a tsunami, and he keeps stroking himself till he’s empty. A few drops of his seed reach on your thighs as well and you slow down, smiling widely and proudly.

It takes a while for the both if you to settle down. You slowly pull out, removing the blindfold as well and being met with a lustful look on Ezra’s part. He grins as you start to clean up and you’re surprised when he pulls you in his arms, inspecting your body with the upmost care and curiosity.

“I believe you said you would join me in the shower,” he says.

“I did.”

“Very good. Because I intend to even the score.”

Something in the way he says that, like a vulgar promise made to a secret lover makes you break a little on the inside. You gulp, noticing his serious face, and you put on a brave expression, for all of your previous domineering façade has faded.

“This will be a long evening, my sweet birdie. Best you buckle up.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Always the Laundry

Marcus Moreno x gn!reader (no pronouns, no y/n)

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff, protective!Marcus, kissing, heated making out, shirtless, Marcus being the best boyfriend, Missy being the best kid

Notes: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ Writer Wednesday. I saw the photo and immediately thought Laundry Day Series! This works as part of the series, but can also be read on its own. I need to get back into writing more of this series cause I really do miss it and I have a few more parts planned out, so look forward to that coming soon and enjoy this for now! Graphic made by me.

~

It was a quiet afternoon at Heroics Headquarters and Marcus slumped down onto his desk with a heavy sigh. The morning had started with a threat of an emergency, but after Marcus sent a team to investigate, it turned out to be nothing. After the rush of adrenaline wore off, the Heroics leader found his thoughts drifted over to you. He wondered what you were up to this afternoon, and when he would see you next.

The two of you hadn’t been dating long, only a couple months, but Marcus felt a deep connection and attraction to you that he hadn’t felt since his late wife. You both agreed to take things slow, which worked best for both of you, but Marcus quickly found that he had deeper feelings even after a short time. He forced himself to hold back, however, and wait until you were ready to take the next step in your relationship. He would wait, though, as long as you needed.

Just as a smile flashed across his face at the thought of you, Marcus’ phone rang. His grin grew wider when it was your name on the screen, and he welcomed the distraction from the quiet of headquarters today, “Hey baby,” Marcus answered with a pep in his tone.

On the other end of the line, you breathed heavily and your voice was shaky, “Marcus?”

He immediately went on alert and stood up when he heard the panic in your voice, “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

You rambled incoherently for a minute before you spoke more clearly, “I’m sorry to call you at work, but I didn’t know what else to do…”

“Are you at home? Where are you?” Marcus cut you off before you could continue.

“Yeah…” you sounded so scared as you whispered into the phone.

“Stay there, I’ll be right over,” he couldn’t hide the way his voice wavered as a rush of fear ran through him. 

Without hesitation, Marcus gathered his things and his weapons and bolted out the door. As he jumped into his car, every possible scenario ran through his head as he thought the worst. What happened to scare you like that? Had someone figured out your connection to him and found you? Did they have you cornered in your house, trapped? Were you hurt? What if he couldn’t get to you in time?

Marcus made it to your place in record time and with his sword in his hand, he barreled through the door as he called out your name. But, instead of a disaster situation like he expected, your place was quiet. There didn’t seem to be any hint of break in or anything disastrous. He made his way into your place as he called your name again, “Baby?”

“In here Marcus,” you finally called back from the far end of your home.

The laundry room, Marcus thought as he quickly moved over to meet you. What he found, however, was not what he expected.

You looked flustered and overwhelmed, and your clothes were soaked. You were surrounded by piles of laundry all over the place as your washing machine shook and spewed water and soap everywhere. At least an inch of water flooded your small laundry room, and it took Marcus a moment to register that his feet were now wet as well. 

But, your face immediately softened when you saw your boyfriend in the doorway, “Marcus…” you breathed in relief and his shoulders finally dropped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and I was freaking out,” you gestured to the mess around you as he moved to be next to you.

“It’s alright,” he spoke in a soft, calming tone as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“This stupid machine,” you cursed, “It’s always spazzing out on me, but it’s never been this bad before,” you vented for another minute before you finally turned and met Marcus’ gaze. When you did, all the air left your lungs, “Marcus?”

“You scared me,” he admitted as those deep brown eyes looked into your own, “I thought something happened,” he squeezed your shoulder tighter before he pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you.

You let out a deep breath as you nuzzled yourself into his strong, comforting embrace, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” you sighed again as you tried to make a joke to comfort him the way his embrace comforted you, “I mean technically something did happen…”

Marcus hugged you tighter as he kissed the top of your head before he let out a soft chuckle, “Always the laundry with you, huh?” The two of you broke out into laughter as you both fondly thought back to the day you met at the laundromat. Marcus pepped light kisses all over you until he finally felt you were safe and pulled away to meet your eyes again, “I’ll help you clean this up and then we can go over to my place so you can finish your laundry.” He thought it best to take care of the immediate problem for now, and he could worry about your washer later.

Your eyes lit up as you clung to his sleeve, “Thank you, Marcus,” this time it was your turn to place a soft kiss to his lips.

“You never need to thank me, baby,” he replied as he smiled into the kiss. 

He wasted no time in helping you unplug the washing machine so that it stopped spewing water and together the two of you cleaned up the water that collected in the little room. Then, Marcus gathered all your laundry and carried it to his car for you and took you over to his house. Even though you insisted you could carry some of it, Marcus didn’t allow it. He genuinely enjoyed taking care of you and wanted to do anything he could for you, no matter how small.

“Your clothes are soaked too, babe,” he said with a grin after he put the first load into his washing machine.

Heat rushed to your face as you realized what he insinuated. You had gone on several dates over the past couple months, and the two of you made out like a couple of horny teenagers every time you saw each other, but things never went further than that at this point. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you wanted him more than anything, but you both agreed to take things slow for both of your comforts.

Just as Marcus was about to apologize for his comment, you grabbed at your shirt and slid it up off your body and stood before him more bare than you ever had before. Marcus’ mouth dropped open in awe as he just stared at you with wide eyes. His reaction just made you more flustered, but in a good way this time. 

Before you could say anything, Marcus closed the distance between your bodies and kissed you passionately. He took the shirt from your hand and tossed it to the floor before his arms wrapped around your waist. Marcus quickly deepened the kiss as he lifted you up and sat you on top of his washing machine. Momentarily shocked by the movement, you moaned into his mouth, which only encouraged him more. 

While you stayed locked in his kiss, your own hands roamed around his chest and tugged at his shirt. Wordlessly, you asked permission for him to take it off as well. And Marcus was more than happy to comply. He broke away from you for just a brief moment as he slipped his shirt off before he was right back on you.

Heat rose in the room as you and Marcus lost yourselves in each other. The kiss felt more intense than any before while your hands roamed all over each other’s bodies. You had never felt that much of his bare skin before, and you quickly found yourself craving more. And Marcus absolutely felt the same about you. No words were spoken, none were needed, just the sounds of your lips against each other and soft moans from both of you filled the space. Marcus pressed his chest against yours enough so that you felt how hard his heart pounded in his chest, and you knew yours beat just as fast.

But, you two were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both broke away and were met with Missy in the doorway, her arms crossed as a playful, knowing smirk on her face.

“Missy!” Marcus scrambled and grabbed his shirt off the floor and used it to cover your body, “What are you doing home?”

“Because I live here,” she tried to play stern but she couldn’t help but laugh at the predicament she found when she walked in the door, “And school is done for the day.” Thankfully, it wasn’t Marcus’ turn for the carpool this week and a classmate’s mom brought Missy home.

At the same time, both you and Marcus tried to explain the situation with overlapping chatter. Missy couldn’t help but burst into laughter as she felt like the adult who just caught two teenagers making out, “Ok, ok, you don’t need to explain,” she threw her hands up in surrender as he turned to walk away, “Just lock the door next time, and keep track of the time! Geez!”

You and Marcus stood dumbfounded as she walked away. The two of you were stunned to silence for several long moments before you locked eyes again and erupted into laughter. Marcus reached out for a towel so you could better cover yourself for now and placed one last kiss to your lips as he did so, “She likes you,” he whispered.

Your eyes went wide, “Really?” you breathed in a hopeful tone.

“Really,” he confirmed with a wink, “And so do I,” Marcus cupped the side of your face.

You could have cried from the overwhelming emotions of just those few words, but you held yourself together. You placed a tender kiss on Marcus' nose as you spoke so softly, “I like you both too.” In that moment, both you and Marcus were grateful for your very faulty washing machine. 

[anonymousfiction211]

Meeting Tom Hiddleston 2

Summary: After meeting Tom Hiddleston you both have to fly back to your own countries. Once you read the inside of your signed book, you decide to text him. Thinks take an unexpected turn. 

Word count: 2.539 words

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Click here to read chapter 1. But this chapter can be read seperatly.

Challenge accepted The weekend that you spend with Tom and your friends was amazing. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. You were back in your own country and Tom in his. Even though you had exchanged numbers, you were too afraid to text, afraid he wouldn’t reply. You unpacked your suitcase and came across the book you had Tom signed. You realized that you never opened the book, too wrapped up in his company. You took the book from your suitcase and sat down on the bed. You slowly opened the first page to see in eloquent handwriting:

Dear (Y/N),

I will certainly conquer your world, if that means I will have you kneeling before me 😉

- Loki

You felt yourself heat up and took a deep breath. Images about the first night, and the others were rushing back to you. You involuntarily squeezed your thighs together to relief some of the tension. Then you realized that this was a good excuse to text him. At least if he didn’t text back, you could try and move on. Hoping to fool yourself to think that would ever be an option. You were thinking about different replies, actually writing them down on paper. It had happened far too often that you were in the middle of rearranging the words of a text, only for you to hit send and come off as a complete idiot. It took a while but eventually you send:

I read your message in the book, you can certainly try but the last time I checked Loki wasn’t really that good at conquering worlds. x (Y/N)

And now came the part that you hated. You had to wait for him to reply. And while you were waiting you ran every worst-case-scenario in your head. From him not texting back, to him finding it weird, to him being disgusted. You were mentally slapping yourself all day for sending a text like that. But he liked the challenge the first time you questioned Loki’s method, maybe he would like your text? Or maybe you should have started with something more mundane, like how his day was going? You had checked your phone 10 times in the last 5 minutes. You knew it was ridiculous to expect someone to reply that fast, still, you felt like you had blown it.

The day went by agonizing slow, you tried to distract yourself but nothing worked. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, you barely had crushes on guys. The fact that you had sex with Tom and he spend a few days with you and your friends was amazing. You figured it would be out of your system by the end, but no. Now that you had a taste, you needed more. Much more! You were ripped from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing. Looking at the screen you saw the person calling low key. That was Tom, he had asked you would not put his real name in your phone in case you ever lost it and someone would find it. Your stomach tied in knots and you felt like you were going to be sick. After a few seconds you realized you had to answer, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.  

‘Hey darling, hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time?’ he asked. The way the word ‘darling’ rolled of his tongue in his British accent had you lightheaded.

‘N- no of course not’ you stammered.

‘Great, I just wanted to ask how your day was going’ he said.

You told them about his day and after that you asked him about his. When he was telling you, you started to wonder if he even read your text. After some chit chatting you were convinced that he hadn’t, maybe he never received it?

‘Oh, by the way, good new! I will be shooting a movie near by you. I will be there for a few months next week. I was hoping we could meet up’ he said.

‘Yes, of course! That would be great’ you replied eagerly.

‘Great, I have to go now, but I just wanted to let you know that I accept your challenge’ he said.

‘Challenge? What challenge?’ you asked confused.

‘The text you send me. I will conquer your world and have you kneeling by the end of the first day’ he replied in a low dark voice. Before you could reply he hung up. It took a moment before you realized what he meant. You swallowed hard and had to admit you were turned on by those words alone. You wondered what Tom had planned to complete the challenge. It was a challenge you for sure were going to lose, which felt like a win.

Over the next week Tom had texted some dubious things that got you worked up. He had sent some pictures of himself, after he was done working out, swimming or just ‘lounging in bed’. Most of them shirtless and his pants were so low you could see the V-shape by his hips. The pictures of him in bed were especially hot. He showed of his abs, his large hands near his crotch which was visibly hard. With the picture he had send a recording wherein he whispered in a dark voice al the filthy things he wanted to do once he was with you. You couldn’t help but touch yourself, the picture with the voice was too much. Tom clearly knew what kind of effect he had on you, because he called you a few minutes after he send it. You reluctantly answered the call, still extremely horny and wet.

‘By your panting I can only assume that you are doing what I think you are doing’ he smirked over the phone.

When you embarrassingly admitted it, Tom started to talk dirty over the phone. He was instructing you what to do and encouraging you to lose yourself in your pleasure. Which you did. After you came he said ‘that’s my good girl’ and hang up. The words did something to you, you were a bit surprised by it. You didn’t know if it was the praise, or the fact he called you his. Tom was a wicked man, a wicked man indeed. The next day he let you know that he would fly that day to your city. He asked for you address, since he had a lot of time that day. Thankfully, it was weekend, so you were also free. You didn’t which time he would come, he didn’t answer you after he got your address. Until you got a text that late afternoon that said:

Wear something that can easily be removed

Deciding to indulge him further you choose a short dress. You were staring at your lingerie and decided to tease him, you were going commando. Right before you were about the cook yourself dinner you heard a knock on your door. You squealed a little from excitement and rushed to the door. When you opened it, you saw Tom smiling brightly at you with his arms wide open. You immediately hugged him, he pulled you up and spun you around.

‘I missed you, darling. This week was torture’ he said.

You laughed a little ‘You surely tortured me the entire week’.

You let him in and to your surprise he still had his suitcase with him. But you couldn’t care less, right now the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him. Tom must have had the same idea, because once he closed the door behind him, he grabbed you and pulled you close to him. His lips were on yours in a second. There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed you, it was passionately, desperate. Like he had been starved and finally the thing he craved for. His hands started to explore your body and you were already helping his out of his jacket. You felt him smile against your lips.

‘Naughty girl, no panties. What happened to the good girl I met a week ago?’ he whispered against your lips.

‘Hmm, you corrupted her slightly’ you answered.

He just chuckled ‘Good, because I’m not done yet’

Once his jacket was off he helped you with the buttons of his shirt and stood half naked before you. He had kicked his shoes of and you were now undoing his belt and pants. A second later he was completely naked and you marvelled at the sight of him. Tom just smirked and helped you out of your dress. You wanted to kiss him again but he grabbed your wrists and hold you in your place.

‘Kneel’ he whispered in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. You wanted to kneel, but you were curious to see this side of him. So, you shook your head ‘make me’ you challenged him. A wide smile appeared on his face, and you briefly wondered if this was a good choice, a bad one, or both. Tom walked to the couch, while still holing your wrists together. He sat down, his erect cock standing proudly between his legs. When he pulled you down you instinctively tried to get his cock inside of you, but he would let you. With his hands he pulled your wrists to your back and held them together with only one hand. You were facing him, your clit close to his cock which was begging for attention. His other hand slowly stroked your hips. You tried to squeeze your thighs together, but couldn’t. Your legs were around his, spreading you as he had spread his as wide as he could. Your clit was exposed and you were completely immobile. His stroking hand soon found you clit and you moaned loudly when he started to circle it with his fingers.

‘Tsk, darling. Already so wet, and I’ve barely begun’ he teased you. You only moaned his name in response.

‘I’ve been thinking about you all week, how it felt to have that pussy of yours clench around my cock, milking it like your life depends on it’ he said while stroking your clit faster.

You felt your orgasm build up and were craving your release. Right before it hit you, he stopped. Instead, his hand found your breasts and started to massage one. He ignored your whining and pleading for him to continue. You struggled against the hand that were holding your wrists, but he didn’t budge. He took your other breasts in his mouth and started to circle and bite your nipple. After that he left multiple bite marks on your breasts, he leaned back and looked proudly at his work. Then he grabbed his cock and he started to tease your clit with the tip of it. You felt your muscles tense up again and you threw your head back.

‘You’re so beautiful’ he whispered to you. ‘Before you send that text I was going to be a gentleman. Now, I want to fuck you every chance I get while I’m here’ he continued.

‘Maybe I will take you to set, stuff that pretty mouth of yours with my cock between takes’ ‘Or make you wear a remote-controlled vibrator the entire day, while I play with the buttons’

You were close, so close. But right before you came, he stopped again.

‘Tom, please’ you panted. You didn’t know you could take more of his teasing.

‘Tell me, what are you begging for’ he mused.

‘Take me, please’ you begged.

‘Is that the best you can do?’ he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Please, please, I want you so bad’ you said.

He leaned further back and released your arms ‘then kneel’ he said.

You didn’t have to be told thrice. You quickly got off him and kneeled between his legs. Before he could say anything you took his cock entirely in your mouth and hurt him groan and curse. You eagerly started to suck him, while swirling the tongue around his tip. You flattened your tongue and put more pressure on it when you slide it against his entire shaft. Tom’s hands flew to your hair and he pulled a little. When he noticed you started to suck him more enthusiastically, he pulled harder.

‘That’s it. My good girl’ ‘You’re a fucking goddess’ he praised you.

You felt his muscles tense and he moaned loudly. You knew he was close, but you didn’t stop. Tom grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you off his cock. You looked questioningly at him.

‘I want to cum inside of you’ he said darkly. He pulled you on his lap and didn’t waste any time to plunge his cock balls deep inside of you. You eagerly started to ride him while he was guiding your motions with his hands on your ass. His gaze was locked at your bouncing breasts. When you felt your orgasm build up, you threw your head back. He seized that opportunity to bite your neck, surely leaving a mark. But you couldn’t care less. When his fingers found your clit, he circled it a few time, and you came immediately. Your walls clenched around him and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. After a few more thrusts you rest your head against his forehead, and both of you tried to control your breathing. His cock was still inside of you and his possessive hands on your hips held you there.

‘That was..’ you started, Tom hummed in agreement.

‘Love, you have no idea what you are doing to me’ he whispered.

You laughed and wanted to move off him, but he tightened his grip and held you there. ‘Not yet’ he said. ‘Shouldn’t you check into the hotel tough? Usually, they don’t let you check in after dinner, which is almost’ you asked him.

He kissed you deeply. ‘I have till 10 pm to check in’ he answered. ‘When I’m here I would be busy and the hotel is like half an hour away from your place. And the set even more than an hour. So, I was wondering what you would think about me staying at your place?’ he asked.

You tried to think it over, but Tom started rambling ‘I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. I just, wanted to spend most of my time with you. But if you are not comfortable I will take the hotel. I didn’t mean.. It was maybe stupid too..’ You kissed him to shut him up and tried not to giggle at his change in personality. You liked how he could go from the dominant sex god to the sweet rambling idiot, just like that.

‘You can stay here’ you smiled brightly at him. Tom looked very relieved to hear you say that. You felt his cock harden again.

‘I- I should however start to cook, for dinner’ you said while trying to get off him.

Tom held you in place and kissed you deeper. To your surprise he stood up and held you impaled on his cock. ‘Bedroom?’ he asked. You pointed him towards the door behind the two of you. He started to walk there while kissing you. He laid you gently on the bed and slowly started to thrust. Your hands caressed his back and your legs wrapped around his waist. Tom left open mouth kisses on your lips, cheeks, and your neck. ‘I will help you cook, once I have you more intimately. Deal?’ he whispered.

‘Deal’ you moaned.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream​ @the-best-phineas​

[jtsfavslut]

Desperado [GD]

Description: Grayson participates in the famous November challenge, but Y/N has made it her mission to make him fail. 

Warnings: Ahh yes...smut, cinge, idk what else 

Word Count: 2.5K+

Touch starved.

The term was an understatement for your current situation. Why? Because your boyfriend decided to participate in the famous no nut fucking November. To say you hated it was another understatement.

You despised how committed he was to it. And to make matters worse, he didn't shave either.

And you being you, you were a whore for Grayson's beard. It was mid-November so it was right where you liked it, a bit past the scruff period.

Every Time you looked at him, your core did nothing but ache. Your legs clenched at the memory of how good he felt between them, his big arms wrapped around them; Holding you close to him as he made you cum for the 4th time that night with just his fingers and mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts?" His voice ranged in your head making you shake your filthy thoughts and memories away.

"Hmm?" you hummed turning to look at him, a smirk on his face disappearing when he licked his lips, coming back short after.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing," you shrugged it off, but he knew. Grayson was fluent when it came to your body language, knowing what everything meant, even the slightest movement.

"Nothing? You've been staring at me and cleaning your legs, you're biting your lip and you're flushed. I know that look from a mile away, Angel," he taunted, making you turn your head and look away, scoffing in response.

"It's just hot in here. You have the heat all the way up," you murmured before getting up and walking away. 

"Are you serious?"

"It's just really hot in here that's all" an idea comes to mind and you strip your hoodie.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, already knowing where you're going with this "really"

"Yeah just really hot" you take your shirt off as well, leaving you in a bra and jeans, you were about to take off your pants before he verbally stopped you.

"Angel, don't you dare," his voice was stern and rough, letting you know you were working him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything bad, I'm gonna go swim," you replied before walking away, a smirk on your face, "To each their own Bailey, to each their own,"

"Keep it up, y/l/n," he whispered but you were long gone to even hear it, your feet dipped inside the cool pool water as you looked up at the clear sky.

Your attempt was a slight fail, it was good, just not good enough to crack Grayson.

Grayson Dolan was stubborn. Maybe as stubborn as they came, you blamed that on three things; his cockiness, his ego, and the fact that his top three had an influence on his personality.

But you couldn't give it. You had made it your mission throughout the entire month of November.

It was now the last day of the month, and you needed Grayson to crack. You needed him to crack hours before the month ended. You wanted to be as close as he could, yet as far as he could. Your plan was evil, perhaps it was, but it wasn't fair that you were forced to compete in a ridiculous, immature, high-school like bet.

You were sure this plan was going to work. You felt it in your bones. You were clever enough to use one of Grayson's qualities, and a few of his traits against himself.

If there's anything that Grayson was, other than stubborn, was dominant and jealous. One wrong look from a guy and he was railing you, fucking the pretty out of you, not that it worked since in his eyes, your prettiest state was when you were fucked out. Hair frazzled into all sorts of directions, a few beads of sweat dripping down your hairline onto your forehead, mouth slightly opened as deep, tired breaths fell past your lips, sore shaking legs, chest rising up as your eyes closed. A sight only he got to see, a sight he caused.

Your skimpy blood-red dress clutched onto your body in the most perfect way, a pair of matching heels covered your perfectly pedicured feet, a pair of silver snake earrings held onto your ears, and a simple matching snake necklace adorned your neck. A silver purse completed your outfit as you applied the last bit of gloss and highlighter you needed before slipping out of your vanity, grabbing your phone before leaving your room, walking towards the couch where Grayson laid on, a pair of gray sweats, with air forces, were present on his body.

"I'll be back around 2 am, don't wait up for me," you spoke, your nails suddenly becoming more interesting than a shirtless Grayson, "Peace you," you turned to walk away before his voice suddenly stopped you, a smirk making its way on and off of your face before you turned back around to face him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, placing his phone down before sitting up straight, his once hazel eyes scanning your body up and down.

"Out, where else?" you carelessly replied as he chuckled.

"Out where? With who?" he questioned, a dry chuckle falling past your lips as you shook your head, clutching on to your purse.

"The club, with Vinnie, invited me out for some drinks," you replied, only receiving a glare and a scoff.

"Since when do you go clubbing?" he asked and you shrugged.

"Since when do you care?" you scoffed, "Anyways, he's here, I need to go, have fun," and with that, you were gone.

You were out the door, as Grayson's anger increased. Sure, he did trust you. But he also knew about your history with Vincent.

He knew everything, from how you went from best friends to fuck-buddies, to best friends again, so he felt a bit uncomfortable with you going out for drinks with someone you spent countless nights with.

Vinnie however, was aware of everything. He was your last resort. You knew how jealous Grayson got whenever he was around. Of course, he agreed, knowing how sexually active you were. He knew you couldn't last a month. He was in fact surprised you had gotten this far without touching yourself, which he knew because you told, just like you did with everything else.

"Do you think this will work?" He asked, taking a shot of the tequila he had ordered, "Like was he mad?"

"He was furious, you should've seen his face," you replied after swallowing the aged liquid, the slight burn giving you nothing but satisfaction, "He should be checking my location right about now," you giggled when the tiny typing bubble popped up in your texts with Grayson. It had been a few hours since you left, meaning Grayson was probably getting ready to bring you home and punish you for being bad and bratty.

"Hey, if he doesn't give you what you want, just know, I'm always up for you," Vinnie smirked, flashing his hand on your face, rings adore his fingers, as black nail polish perfectly laid on his nails.

"In your dreams Vincent," you playfully smacked his hand, knowing he was only playing around.

"You're right, you know? I liked you more when I had you to myself," he scoffed, shaking his head, taking another shot letting out a groan at the taste.

"Oh please V, I'm sure you have plenty of entertainment around," you rolled your eyes as you stared at his hands.

Oh, how you wished Grayson would accomplish your wishes of painting his nails black, but he claimed it was simply not his style. Of course, you understood, but you still wanted him to do it, it was, after all, something you found incredibly attractive.

"Not really, no one offers what I need, you know? They all like that vanilla shit, with the aftercare and soft shit,"

"But you did that with me?" you asked confused but he just shook his head.

"Because it's you. You gave me what I needed. But anyways, your boy toy is here," he spoke as he noticed Grayson walk in. An angry look on his face as he caught a glimpse of your back and Vinnie’s face.

"Ughh, finally," you scoffed as your core throbbed, your mind suddenly imaging certain scenarios on how Grayson would take you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you felt his presence next to you, his cologne slapping you on the face.

"I came to pick you up and take you home," he said, no emotion laced with his voice, you mentally rolled your eyes.

Your hand reached up to Vincent's, intertwining your fingers with his before letting out a whine, "But we just started to have fun,"

"I don't care. We're leaving," he spoke before leaning down close to your ear, "You're gonna get it as soon as we get in the car,"

"Ughh fine. You're so boring. You should take a shot or two sometime," you dramatically sighed before letting go of Vinnie's hands and grabbing your phone and purse, "I'll see you another time V, love you, take care," you said, sending him a smirk in an angle that Grayson couldn't see.

"Love you too, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he waved you off as Grayson carefully dragged you out of the establishment. He had parked his car in an empty and abandoned parking lot, having a plan thought out for when he arrived at where you were at.

He opened the back door of his Tesla, before throwing you inside, making sure you wouldn't get hurt, but wanting the message that he was upset to get across, "You think you're funny? Acting like a whore, wearing a slutty outfit to go out with Vinnie? Teasing me all fucking month long, acting like a fucking bitch," he spoke as his fingers came in contact with your jaw, squeezing it in the most perfect way.

Never in his life did Grayson think he would call a woman a whore. But when you came along, you brought a Pandora's box with you. He wasn't sure degrading a female would get him laid, but you introduced it to him, at first it was weird, but he took a liking to it, only with you.

"I didn't do anything," you pouted against his hand, making his other hand squeeze your hip.

"Did I tell you to speak?"

"You asked," you scoffed, eyes widening as a burning sensation spread over your thigh, followed by a moan.

"Open," he muttered, tightening his grip on your jaw, making you open your mouth before he leaned down, doing something you thought Grayson Dolan would never do, "Swallow," he muttered after spitting in your mouth. You did what he said, no questions asked, and no ounce of hesitation in your body, "good girl," he whispered before moving down to between your legs.

His hands explored your legs before you felt a couple of cold things making you look down to find a couple of rings on his fingers, yet no nail polish.

"You wanna behave like a whore, I'll treat you like one," he smirked at your facial expression, he was loving every single second of what was happening, "Mouth of fingers? Never mind, you don't get to choose, don't you dare make a sound," he muttered before pulling down your underwear.

Your body slightly jumped and the long-awaited feeling of his fingers. You bit your lip, feeling so touched that just the slightest feeling of his two fingers spreading your arousal around, "Look at you, so desperate, and wet. It's pathetic," he chuckled making you shake your head before throwing it back as he slowly slipped a finger in, just one, feeling satisfied as you spread your legs and threw your head back, he added another one, and you felt out a whine, earning a thigh smack from him, "I said no sounds,"

He dipped his head down, just feeling the presence of his mouth near you pussy was enough to make you bite your lip, and hold back a moan as he pressed soft kissed on the inside of your legs, fingers wholly moving in and out of you, until he finally placed a soft kiss on your clit, and started moving his fingers faster.

You quickly moved your hand up to your lips, muffling any sound and moan that slipped out. The feeling of euphoria and ecstasy spread quickly over your body, and a knot started forming on your lower stomach at how good Grayson was eating you out and finger fucking you.

"Gray, Grays please," you started chanting his name, not being able to hold it back any longer, the amount of pressure building up was much more than what you could handle.

"You wanna cum for me Angel, Wanna be a good girl for daddy?" He teasingly asked, his fingers moving at a pace that you thought was impossible.

"Mhm, I do please. I'll be a good girl I promise,"

"Let it go, cum for me," as soon as the words slipped out, there was no holding back, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you let a pornographic like moan, squirting all over his face and making a mess in the back seat of his car, your vision had truly gone white, never feeling something as strong before, not that you minded, you loved every single second.

"Oh my God," was the only thing you managed to breathe out, finally opening your eyes after a few seconds, Grayson was above you, his white shirt having some wet patches, showing how good he truly made you feel.

"I don't think you should be saying his name right now," he smirked as you shook your head, "Not after this mess you made in my car, at least,"

"I know a perfect way to make up, but you know, it's still November so," you smirked, looking at your watch, the time being 11:51, he had nine more minutes.

"Really? How so?" He teased, picking you up as he sat down, placing you bare half on his black dress pants.

"To make you feel really fucking good, right here. In this car, and you can do anything you want to me," you smirked, palming him through his pants, his bulge was apparent, but you were running out of time. 11:55

"But it's only valid for today," you added, unblocking his belt before lifting yourself up to pull his pants down, You spit on your hand before moving it, just to make him harder and work him up a bit more.

"But you have to say yes,"

11:59

"Fuck just do it," he groaned before placing his hands on your hips, making sure to align himself before slamming you down on his dick.

12:00

"Look at you, couldn't even wait one more minute," you struggle to say as he bounced you up and down on his dick, loud groaning falling past his lips at how good you felt around him.

"Shut up,"

Please I am so sorry!!! This is so bad and gross, and I got carried away...I also wrote this in like an hour!! But I said I would do it so here we are!! Anyways yeah, if you made it here because you read it I love you!! And big thanks to @blazedgraysons for helping me and motivating me to write it, I love you bitch!!! 

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 3

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

Find the first parts on my masterlist.

Story continues under the cut. Enjoy the thirst!

[The amazing artwork belongs to @tokamiart, permission to post was granted, don´t repost!]

Clover and Simeon were giving out drinks at the bar.

The girl was handing over all sorts of bottles, glasses and ice cubes if needed. Simeon then put it all together with such grace and beauty that Clover often found herself gazing at him, until the brunet would turn to her with a smile and ask her to let go of whatever she had been wanting to hand him.

At one point, without any customers walking up to the bar, Clover sat down for a quick break.

"Tired?" Simeon asked, having decided to clean the counter in the meantime.

Clover chuckled at the sight. "Oh, is this going to be the classic 'I tell the bartender of my problems' scenario?"

The angel blinked in confusion. "I am afraid I don't know what you are talking about... But I'm always there to lend you an ear, if that's what you're aiming at."

"I'm fine", she laughed. "I was only joking... I must admit, though, you really suit this job. I'm sorry if I'm misjudging you, but how come an angel is looking so perfectly fit for serving drinks?"

Simeon blessed her with a chuckle. "Thank you for the compliment. As for your question... You might be surprised, but angels do know how to have some fun, too."

"Oooh" Clover grinned. "So the whole turning-water-into-wine thing wasn't just a myth?!"

At that, Simeon only put his finger close to his lips in a "shhh" sound, giving her a secretive little wink before both broke out in soft giggles.

A little while later, their attention got caught up by a situation at the tables.

Luke was cleaning dirty dishes off of an emptied table, when a demon approached him.

A little flustered, they exchanged a few words before Luke gestured towards the public toilets.

"He's doing so well" Simeon hummed, leaning on the counter as he watched his angel friend with a proud smile. "It had been very difficult for him to adjust to life in the Devildom... But I'm glad to see he is finally finding his own pace of things."

Clover's head jumped back and forth between the two celestial creatures.

"It's because he has a great friend who's watching over him" she smiled.

"Huh? Oh, no, I don't want to take any credit for that. It's all thanks to Luke's own strength that he's able to go through this so well."

Suddenly, Luke hurried over to them, a full tray of dishes in his hands.

He looked SO disgusted.

"Waaah... What's wrong with those demons...!" He let the tray slip onto the counter. "Has nobody here learned how to properly behave in a restaurant?! The tables are sticky, the food is all over the cutlery, or even worse...!"

He held up a fork.

... Or better, what was left of it. Which was only the handle. The upper spikes got bitten off almost completely.

"Who eats a fork?!?!", Luke cried out. "That's... That's... Ridiculous!"

Clover gave an awkward laugh, she got over the point of wondering long ago.

"I am pretty sure I know who would..." she mumbled.

And truly, stepping out of the kitchen, the culprit looked at the fork with a guilty expression.

"... Don't tell Lucifer" Beelzebub mumbled as he came closer. "He'll get mad if he sees that parts of the cutlery are missing..."

"... 'parts'?!" Luke repeated in disbelief. "You mean this isn't the only one?!"

"... Those were accidents..." Beel whined, holding his grumbling belly.

He let himself plonk down on a chair next to Clover, then huddled over the counter in a pout.

"Ugh... And what am I supposed to do with that now...?" Luke said.

"Hm..." Simeon thought. "Clover, Beel, could you watch the bar for a moment? Luke, let's go bring the dishes to the kitchen... And that thing into the trash."

They excused themselves after Clover gave her okay and Beel gave some kind of grumble.

The girl´s head drifted over to look at the demon...

And her heart skipped a beat.

She checked the situation.

His tail? Exposed.

His thoughts? In some far away land about food.

The others? Gone.

The perfect chance for a squeeze? Right fucking NOW.

Clover swallowed the raising anxiety in her stomach.

She had lurked around the angels in hope of squeezing one of their tails, but now that they were gone, she had missed that chance...

The more she thought about it, the more did Clover feel like hyperventilating. It was such a stupid thing to fuss over, but sadly, her habit of over-contemplating would always stress her out in unnecessary situations.

After what felt like eternity of convincing herself, she moved her arm.

Beel almost immediately turned his head.

"... You look like you want to eat me." He said.

"Wh-what?!"

His grumpy face mustered her.

"But I will eat you before you could possibly eat me, so don't even try."

Clover's already red face curled in confusion.

"I didn't want to..." she mumbled.

"Why were you staring at me, then?"

"I-I... Was thinking about how to help you with your hunger..." she lied.

"... Oh. Sorry for accusing you of something else, then."

"N-no, it's fine..."

Before Clover could talk herself into more bullshit, Simeon came back, and the holy boy was there to save her from her own misery.

"Beel" he called out. "Luke and I will soon return home for a bit. I can bring you some sandwiches, so stay strong, okay?"

"Simeon...!" Beel cheered as his euphoria made him stand up and engulf Simeon in a hug. "You're a true angel...!"

Clover felt quite shitty afterwards.

Beel hugging Simeon was an adorable sight, but she hated herself for being such a coward.

After dodging another encounter with Solomon, she had pulled back to help Belphie at the casino area, trying to get her mind off of the competition for a little...

-----------------

Alright. I hope you´re not bored yet, because the chaos hasn´t even properly started yet.

Also, nearing ourselves to half-time, now is a good opportunity to sum up a few events as well as the overall squish-score so far.

Violet was leading with a total of 12 points. Besides the mentioned scenarios, she had also encountered Mammon a second time, and she was lucky enough to find Luke having a life crisis over another eaten fork.

Heck, Violet even managed to squeeze Clover's tail once, and her friend hasn't noticed!

Clover, on the other side, has had a great start, but did rather poorly the later it got.

With five points, she only had another chance with Asmo, who, tbh, had been begging for someone to pay attention to his booty. (But to be clear, he did not notice the squish.)

Over time, she got desperate, but that only fueled Clover's fears of getting caught.

It nearly let her to internally quitting, if not for Violet to pull her back into the game once more...

-------------------

Most of the crew was busy working when the clock struck midnight.

A nearby bell tower announced the change of day -- and with that, also the change of clothes.

The customers as well as the staff looked up when a certain voice echoed through the speakers.

"Good evening, my sweethearts~!" Asmodeus cheered, sitting on the bar counter and waving at the crowd. "Or should I say good night? Good morning? I hope you are having a good one, to say the least!"

He gained a small round of laughter.

"Yes, yes, a cheery mood is what we want! And now that we passed midnight... It's time for a special surprise!"

He stood up onto the counter, striking a nice pose while smirking widely.

"Those with weak minds -- and weak ovaries -- should brace themselves, cause things are about to get hot~!"

The crowd applauded and cheered. A group of thirsty (asmodeHoes) fans threw in some... naughty exclamations, but Asmo had already jumped onto the floor again, gathering the staff members around him.

Barbatos at his side, he was handing out another set of clothing. "Please get dressed quickly", the butler said.

And so they went off...

--------------------

"VioLET."

"Cloverrrr..."

"I CAN'T go out like his."

"But... But Clover... You know what must be awaiting us outside..."

"ARGH... I'm not ready for that either..."

Clover was sitting on the floor again.

This time, their outfit consisted of a classic black playbunny suit, ears and tail still included of course, arm sleeves as well as a shirt's collar that was held together by a bow tie.

"Come onnn, I don't wanna go without you..." Violet protested.

"But HOW am I supposed to face those frickin´ snacks” Clover cried out. “I'm a fucking potato compared to them, also Violeeet, the moment I see any of them my mind will SIN and I won't ever be able to look into Simeon's eyes ever agai-"

They heard voices on the other side of the door.

"Woohooo, is that Lucifer?! Shirtless?!" They heard Asmo go. "And and, kyaaaa, Beel, those ABS!!"

The girls exchanged a glance.

Then dashed out of the womens' toilet once again.

Stumbling out of the room, however, there was no one to be spotted at all.

A little confused, the girls noticed too late how a cheeky Asmodeus had been hiding behind the door, pushing the latter shut to have a perfect view on his girls.

"Got you~!" he hummed, leading the girls to turn around.

He had a camera in his hands and seemed to be already filming.

"What a view~", he continued. "Could you do me a favour and turn around as well?"

"Asmo!!" Violet hissed, her cheeks gaining a pink blush out of angered embarrassment.

Not as much as Clover's face was heating up, though, as she prompted the demon to put his phone down.

"Not going to happen, sweetie~" he chuckled. "Devilgram will love those bashful expressions...!"

"WhAt?!" Violet covered her body immediately. "You WON'T upload this anywhere!"

"Uhmmm... That's kind of not possible, you know? This is a live broadcast."

"WHAT."

Then, another person stepped out of the males' bathroom.

"What's all the noise about?"

Lucifer's annoyed voice echoed through the corridor.

When he stepped closer, however, his attention got caught up by the girls' appearance.

"Oh~?" he purred, inspecting the girls (but Violet in particular hehe) with a pleased smirk on his lips.

"L... Lu..." Violet's voice broke off.

She just... Died. Nothing more to say about this, really.

Because only now both, Violet and Clover, realised that not everything of Asmo's bait had been a lie...

The demons were actually shirtless, their chests bare as they were wearing only arm sleeves and, in Lucifer's case, a bow tie around his neck, while Asmo's neck was decorated with a ribbon. Rather tight-fitting black trousers and the bunny accessories completed the look that had left the girls speechless.

Lucifer's smirk grew wider.

"No, that's no good... I think I will have to speak to the manager. Those outfits are way too distracting... Isn't that so, Violet?"

"H-huh?!" The girl did a little hop.

Thankfully, Asmo jumped in to her aid.

"Fufu~! Lucifer, do you mean the girls are getting distracted by us, or is it that YOU are getting distracted, hm~?"

Lucifer crossed his arms in a contemplative manner.

"Well... I admit to a pleasant view when I see one, so..." He pinned Violet down with his eyes. "I guess I will have to be extra careful from now on... Then again, I might need a more detailed view, just to be sure..."

Asmo gave an excited giggle.

"Lucifer, you beast~!"

Then Asmo turned to Violet again.

"But judging from her red cheeks, I feel Violet might think the same... Isn't that so, darling~?"

"U-uhm...", Violet stammered, trying really hard to make her brain function again. "Well I... Think there's no point in denying that... Uhm..."

She glanced over at Lucifer, but every time she did, her head got dizzy all over again.

"Go on, please" Lucifer suddenly said. "There is no need to deny what, exactly?"

And her brain got stuck in an endless loop of not being able to cope.

Lucifer seemed to have plenty of fun with that, so he kept teasing her for the time being.

-----

We do remember, however, that there was another still girl left to completely destroy.

And Asmo took it upon himself to achieve exactly that.

"Don't worry, Clover!" He said as he tackled the girl into a hug, simultaneously dragging her away from the two lovebirds. "You're just as charming, of course."

"Th-thanks..." Clover mumbled.

"Hm? You don't seem to believe me."

Clover pulled away, now only holding hands with him, giving a shrug. "You know what I think of my looks, Asmo..."

The avatar of Lust gave a sigh.

"There we go again... If you're so self-conscious… why don't we go ask for some opinions?"

"Eeh?!"

And if the god of fateful anime encounters had planned it, the remaining demon brothers happened to have finished changing as well. The door to the men´s bathroom swung open…

"Oh!" Asmo smelled his chance. "Look, there comes our audien-"

He got cut off by the weird sound Clover made.

In a single movement, she had let out a squeal that a human throat should not be able to do, had completely destroyed Asmo's pretty hand by squeezing it in excitement, while in the end she was hiding behind Asmo, only peeking over his shoulder to glance at the mass of hotness coming out of the bathroom.

"Clover…?" Asmo sounded confused.

"Too much hotness", she mumbled into his shoulder. “I can´t-“

"Huh?" Asmo sounded genuinely confused for a second.

Then a smirk curled his face.

"What?!" he spoke extra loud, extra dramatically, so everyone could hear. "What did you say, Clover?! You think they're all sooo hot?!"

"A-asmo, be quiet...!" Clover mumbled.

But he continued.

"What? You love how much skin we are showing?!" he yelled.

"Stop...!"

"Whaaat?! You'd even pay them to strip down even more?! Clover, you wild animal!"

She punched the demon in embarrassment.

The next second, a certain scumbag stood beside them.

"DiD I hEaR 'P-p-p-PAy'?!" Mammon stuttered, literal cash-symbols in his eyes.

Asmo grinned at him, covering Clover's mouth so she couldn't protest.

"Our dear Clover here wants you to strip for her~"

Clover shook her blushy head.

"That's not trrngh..." she tried to press out between Asmo's fingers.

Mammon stared at her for a moment.

"… 10.000 Grimm."

Clover had freed herself again.

"... What?"

"15.000 and I'll do pole dance too."

"MAMMON WHAT THE HECK."

The second born looked almost disappointed when Clover declined his offer.

But Asmo was already moving on with his mischiefs.

"What? Clover?? You want to do WHAT with Beel's abs?!?!"

"ASMODEUS, I'LL KILL YOU-"

"No you won't~" Asmo grinned, turning to give his brothers a view on Clover. "Guuuys, I need your help! I dare you to give this little lady a rating in this sweet costume of hers."

Most of them looked confused at first,

but, seeing one, her outfit, and two, how much she was unable to cope, a few were ready to assist in Asmo's tease.

"I'd need a full view to judge" Satan grinned.

"Yeah" Belphie agreed. "Could you turn around slowly, Clover? Maybe do some poses as well?"

Clover shot them some angry glares.

"... You could do that pose were you form ears with your hands…" Levi dared to add in a mumble.

"Hrrrgh...!" Clover was fighting her embarrassment. "All of you are awful... Beel over here is the only nice guy, honestly...!"

She glanced at him in a pout, hoping he'd defend her... Or at least say something as well...

"... So you're not going to pose for us?" Beel said in a pout.

Clover.exe stopped working.

"Fufu..." Asmo grinned. "See, my dear? Even Beel demands a show... Now come on, we're waiting~!"

--------------

You can probably guess that Clover wasn't going to get out of this situation anytime soon.

While this part of the group enjoyed this mess of a person, let's switch back to the other girl whose brain was doing about as poorly.

Lucifer had kept Violet by his side, making sure she wasn't going to help Clover in her dilemma… Or going elsewhere in general.

However, one certain jealous bean soon couldn't bear that Lucifer was hogging Violet all for himself.

"Oi, Lucifer, back off of Violet already!"

And Mammon pressed himself in between them. "She's one of my humans after all!"

Visible displease grew on Lucifer's face as he got cockblocked yet again.

"And what would give you the right to claim her for yourself?" The eldest grumbled.

Mammon crossed his arms.

"... Because I just said so."

Lucifer pressed out a sigh, to then simply push Mammon's body away again.

"LUCIF-", Mammon hissed. "STOOP...!"

"You are distracting us, Mammon."

"B-but... That´s not fair…” he shouted. “M-maybe I want Violet to notice me as well!!"

Lucifer stopped, while most of the surrounding people went silent.

Then Levi gave a laugh.

"Oh my god MAMMON, that was so desperate lolol, SO uncool!"

Belphie spared him a pityful laugh. "Are you really that desperate for some attention, you idiot?"

The avatar of Greed was gritting his teeth.

"Hnngh... Shut up, all of you...!"

The situation around them escalated a little, even more so as Diavolo and Barbatos joined in on the chaos, having changed clothes as well.

But Violet felt bad, especially since she wouldn´t have expected Mammon to act like this. So, in a silent second where everyone seemed busy in their personal chaos, she sneaked over to Mammon.

After -- of course, what did you expect -- quickly poking his bunny tail, Violet also gave his shoulder a tap.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Mammon looked a little surprised, responding with a huff.

"...'s a wolf..."

"Huh?"

"Lucifer's a wolf!" Mammon repeated, awfully loud and both feared that the eldest brother had heard him.

A bit more timid, Mammon continued as Violet could only look at him in confusion.

"... Ya can't just go hop around in such an alluring outfit when there're guys like Lucifer around. He could go full beast mode and, dunno, do some weird stuff to ya."

Violet suppressed the nasty thoughts approaching her brain, her heart beating drastically as she mumbled a faint "I see".

"Ya human should better stick to the great Mammon! I'd treat you nicely, y'know."

Violet raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"... 'Treat me' how, exactly?" She asked in an almost teasing manner. "What were you planning to do, Mammon?"

And it landed a critical hit.

"I-I-I-I mean tr-treat as i-in... I'd protect you from all those beasts around you!" he stammered, his cheeks a blushing mess. "Nothin´ weird, I swear!! Its just… There's plenty of those beasts! Actually, maybe you should go home. If all the customers see you like this... Argh... I have to tell Clover, too...!”

He turned his head to search for the other girl, only to realise the group was about to return to their work. "Ahh... Oh no, she´s already been caught..." Mammon pressed out.

"Mammon" Violet called out again and treated him with a smile. "I assume you´re saying this because you´re worried about us, right? Thank you for that, you´re really a good friend. We're having a shift together later, right? So, until later, okay?"

He seemed confused again, but nodded in the end.

"Ugh... Fine... Just stay safe, ´kay? Promise!"

"I promise" she laughed, then Mammon finally seemed to have calmed down.

At least he was fine enough to turn around and go bother Levi with something.

Violet was watching them in amusement, then felt a presence behind her.

"Turning your eyes off of me already?" A deep voice purred almost right into her ear.

Ah, yes, there it was again, the drastic heart rate.

"Lucifer..." Violet turned around at the mellow voice. "I just wanted to tease Mammon a little. He seemed a little down."

"Sure, suit yourself..." Lucifer mumbled casually. "But I seem to be a little down as well... To think you'd end our conversation so quickly..."

Violet exploded into a puzzled blush.

"N-no... That's not... I ... You..."

Lucifer was pinning her down with his gaze, waiting for a coherent reaction. “Then how abou we pick up where we left? I think there´s something you wanted to tell me…”

"Y-you look... A-... Amazing..." she stammered.

"Hm? Could you say that again? Your voice appears to be awfully thin."

She breathed a heavily stressed breath. So Lucifer continued.

"Pardon me? Violet, you appear to be overheating. How come? I would assume your clothing is revealing enough skin to make that impossible..."

Aaand Violet's brain shut down as well.

"Should I help you?" he hummed, stepping even closer. "In comparison to you, I seem to maintain a way cooler head than you do..."

And, being the most flustered he has ever been, Lucifer continued to tease the shit out of Violet for as long as he felt the need to...

-------------

The group was about to dissolve and (finally) head back to work.

The girls, however, had stayed back for a strategy meeting.

"This is bad", Clover blabbered as she was trying to calm down. "I couldn't get up to them with shirts on, how am I supposed to even TALK to any of them when they're in maximum sexy mode?! And it's not only maximum hotness, but did all of them collectively agree to unlock their secret teasing-modes, too?!"

Violet gave a blushing shrug. "... Are you complaining, though?"

"Hnngh... No... But I'm so short on points... If I don't start playing risky, I'll loose..."

Violet smirked at that.

"Yeah" she agreed. "That's a good idea. Look, Solomon's over there all alone, why don't y-"

"Nope” lover interrupted her immediately. “Not going to happen. Nope. I'd rather go up to the demon prince himself. I'd rather get killed by Barbatos TBH."

"Oh, you would get killed..." Violet shivered, thinking back of what happened in the store room earlier.

"Don't care" Clover persisted. "Like, come, demon lord, if I was to touch Solomon's tail today, you may kill me right this instant...!"

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Wolf AU! BTS Scenario| You get lost in the woods and meet them

You had decided to go for a walk in the woods. They weren’t unfamiliar to you and you had walked often in them. You had a path you had marked off on the trees as a way for you to help find your way back, but today you wanted to stray a little bit from your usual path and explore the woods further. The twigs snapped and leaves crunched under your feet as you made your way further into the undiscovered parts of the woods. You could hear something that sounded like running water and that intrigued you, so you headed towards the sound. Eventually you came to a small brook that was blocking your path. You wanted to keep going, and carefully stepped onto the rocks to keep your shoes from getting wet. However you didn’t notice that one of the rocks was covered in moss, so you lost your footing and fell into the creek. You could feel your ankle roll as you went down and cried out in pain.

“Oh my god. Ow. What the hell? Of course that is just my luck!” You try to stand up but pain shoots through your ankle up your leg and you immediately fall back into the water.

“Well this is great. Just perfect. No one is out here and I’m going to die in this stupid creek.” You flop back into the water and stare up at the sky, questioning all your life choices that lead you to this point. The water and air was getting colder as the day went on and you couldn’t help but start to shiver. You sat up out of the water and attempted to drag yourself out of the creek. It was slow going, but eventually you were now sitting on the edge of the water, completely soaked but at least out of the cold water. You knew yelling for help was fruitless, no one came to these parts of the woods anyway but you yelled anyway, hoping by some miracle someone would hear you. You were just about to give up when you heard branches snapping and brush rustling as if someone was working their way towards you.

“Hello? Is someone there? Can you help me please? I slipped and fell and hurt my ankle I’m worried it might be broken.” The noises get closer, and it definitely sounds like a group of… whatever is headed your way. The footsteps were too light to be human. Now you felt panic bubbling in your chest. There were  multiple different animals in these woods that could and would eat a human. You were staring hard where you heard the noises coming from, and saw a flash of dark brown fur go across your vision. Multiple flashes of dark brown and silver fur. As they made their way closer you could tell they were a pack of wolves, 7 of them.

“Oh great! If the starvation doesn’t get me then the wolves will. I shouldn’t have strayed off the path. No, I should never have came into these woods in the first place.” One of the wolves, a rather large black one started walking towards you. It was about a foot away from you now, leaning in to sniff your hand that was resting on the ground.

“Ah you smelling me to see if I am going to be your next meal? Well listen here wolf this is not how I plan to die so if you even try to take a chunk out of my hand I will fight you.” You muster up your most intimidating glare and the wolf tilts its head at you in confusion. It moves closer so it’s face to face with you.

“I was kidding, please don’t eat me.” You squeeze your eyes shut and feel a few puffs of hot air on your face, and when you open your eyes it almost looks like the wolf is laughing at you.

“You think this is funny Mr. Wolf? Cuz I don’t see how this is a laughing matter! I’m going to die out here in the woods because your pack is going to eat me or I’m gonna starve to death.” The wolf whines at you, licking your cheek and sitting down and begins wagging his tail at you.

“You’re very friendly for a wolf. Where did the rest of your pack go?” He glances towards the woods and you can see there are 5 of them there.

“Where’s the 6th?” The black wolf doesn’t say anything, just lays is head on your lap and huffs which you take means it must want pet. So you run your fingers gently over his fur. You see his tail start wagging and it makes you smile and feel better for a few moments. That is until you see a shirtless man walking towards you. His hair is swept away from his face and he has bright blue hair. His eyes look kind enough, as do the dimples that form when he smiles at you. But you aren’t about to just start trusting some random stranger in the woods. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know where this is going.

“Oh my gosh please stay way. My day just keeps getting worse! Mr. Wolf! Attack him!”

“Hey hey whoa, I’m not going to hurt you. We just saw you were injured and wanted to offer to take you back to your car or… wherever you came from to end up here. You’re pretty far into the woods. Humans don’t usually come this far into our territory.

“Your territory? Our? We? There’s only one of you that I see. And what do you mean ‘humans’? You look pretty human to me.” Suddenly the fur in your lap starts to feel more like human hair and you glance down to see another half naked man now in your lap.

“Hi! I’m Taehyung it’s nice to meet you.”

“W-where did the wolf go? Who are you? How did you get there? I must have hit my head when I fell and am just hallucinating. Yes that’s it.”

“I am the wolf silly! Haven’t you ever heard of werewolves before?”

“Werewolves… like Twilight, Teen Wolf, made up stuff from fairy tales? Those werewolves?”

“We are very real I assure you.” The blue haired man says. “Just, Hollywood likes to play things up and make things more dramatic than they actually are. My name is Namjoon.” He holds his hand out and you take it, shaking it more out of habit as your brain right now is still processing all of this. “What’s your name? Do you live close to here so we can take you home?”

“Um.. my name is y/n. I don’t live close by, I drove here but my car is parked back that way somewhere, I think... I marked the trees so I knew which way I came from.”

“Ah that’s quite alright. Yoongi can pick up on your scent and help find your way back to the car even without the markers.” A smaller silver wolf comes out from the trees and makes his way over to you, sniffing your hand and his nose crinkles.

“Oh I’m sorry does my scent offend you? I’ve been lying in a creek for the past five hours I’m not gonna smell like a fresh field of daisies.” Taehyung bursts out laughing at that and Yoongi rolls his eyes, already walking away from you and heading towards the direction of your car.

“Jungkook?” Namjoon asks. A very fluffy and adorable dark brown wolf comes bounding towards him. “Can you go to your human form and carry y/n?” You blink your eyes for a moment and suddenly there is a very tall and muscular man standing over you. You notice the tattoos over his arm and the piercings in his ears. Most people might find him a little intimidating, but his eyes are kind and gentle and you immediately feel at ease when he smiles at you.

“Is that okay? If I lift you up now?”

“Sure. I just want to get home and get warm I’m freezing.” It’s now that you realize just how cold it’s gotten and begin shivering violently. Jungkook immediately scoops you into his arms and carries you effortlessly. And he’s honestly like a space heater. You snuggle closer to his chest and feel him tense up for a moment before he relaxes. “You’re so warm. It’s nice.”

“Um.. thank you I guess? Our body temperature tends to run a lot higher than a normal person so, I guess you can consider me your personal space heater until we get back to your car. “

“Thank you.” You all walk in silence for a while but you become curious about them and decide to ask questions to help pass the time.

“So there’s 7 of you. Who are the others?”

“Ah the little white one, that’s Jimin. The orangish rust colored wolf is Hoseok. Jin is the very broad dark brown wolf. And you already know Yoongi, Namjoon, Taehyung, and myself.”

“How did you all meet?”

“Well, either our packs and families abandoned us or sadly passed away. We all just kind of found each other at some point and decided it was better to stay together than be alone. So we formed out own little pack and family unit.”

“Oh.. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. We’re all much happier this way.” You smile at that and notice that there is now a blonde man standing next to you and Jungkook.

“Are you Jimin?” He smiles and his eyes disappear which you find absolutely adorable.

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“Your hair color is almost the same as your wolf’s. And your eyes are the same. They hold the same kindness and light.” Jimin smiles at that even more and you can’t help but wonder how anyone could abandon this sweetheart.

“Thank you! You know most people are afraid of us. You’re the first human we’ve had contact with in over 5 years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Usually they run away from our wolf form, or run away from our human form when they realize what we are.”

“That’s…. sad.”

“It is. But honestly you were terrified when you first saw us too. I think if your ankle wasn’t hurt you would have run away too.” You hear a new voice say. Suddenly two more humans have joined you. “I’m Jin by the way. And this is Hoseok.”

“Nice to meet you both. And… as much as I wish I could say you’re wrong, you’re probably right. But I’m sorry. You all are so kind and sweet I guess I shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”

“Nonsense! You’re a human! You can’t tell the different between your friendly neighborhood werewolves or a feral wolf that just wants to eat you! You absolutely should be cautious!” It almost feels like Hoseok is scolding you and you shrink back against Jungkook.

“But… how can I tell? I don’t want to offend you all if I come across a werewolf again that is just looking for some companionship or a friend.”

“There’s really no way for you to know. Unless you get close enough to realize one is going to growl at you and try to bite you which at that point will be too late. And the other is just going to walk up to you immediately looking to befriend you, like Taehyung did.” You can hear Jungkook’s voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks and it immediately relaxes you. It’s quiet again after that until you hear Yoongi yipping up ahead. He breaks through the trees and you know this must be finally back to the area where you parked your car.

“Oh thank heavens.” You start squirming in Jungkook’s hold and he gently scolds you.

“Ah y/n don’t move around so much, you want me to drop you?”

“S-sorry!”

“By the way how are you going to get home with your ankle injured?” Taehyung asks.

“Oh. I can drive with my other foot.”

“Are you sure? One of us can take you home if you want?”

“Then how are you going to get back here?”

“I guess I didn’t think of that… you don’t want a new wolf roommate?”  If Taehyung was in his wolf form you know his ears would be flat against his head as he was afraid of you rejecting his offer.

“Honestly I would love to have any one of you stay with me but, I would never try to split up your family and I don’t exactly have room for 7 large wolves in my apartment.” Jimin giggles at that and pulls Taehyung back from you. Namjoon opens the car door and turns the car on but Jungkook refuses to let go of you.

“Um… Jungkook you can put me down now.”

“I will once your car warms up! I just don’t want you to be cold.” He holds onto you a little tighter until he deems your car warm enough and gently sets you down on the seat. You lean down and pat Yoongi’s head, thanking him for leading you back here. He makes a scoffing sound but you don’t miss the way his tail is wagging slightly, almost as if it has a mind of its own and he’s trying to stop it.

“Well I guess I should probably get going now. Thank you all so much. Seriously I don’t think I would have made it out of the woods without you. I owe you my life.”

“Oh it’s not trouble really! We’re just glad we could help you.” Namjoon places a hand on your shoulder and closes the car door for you. But before you can even put the car in drive suddenly your door is thrown open and Taehyung is clinging to you.

“Please come back to visit us! You’re really nice and don’t judge us and I think I speak for everyone when I say we would love to get to know you and be friends with you.” You’re a little taken aback at first, but eventually move your hand to Taehyung’s hair and run your fingers through it.

“Oh of course I will come back to see you guys. I know we haven’t known each other very long but I’ve already grown quite attached to you all. It just might be a while because I have to wait for my ankle to heal before I come back out here but, I promise I will be back.”

“Pinky promise?” Jimin holds out his pinky to you and looks at you hopefully. You don’t hesitate to link them together.

“Pinky promise. I won’t abandon you guys.” You hear a whimper from Taehyung and kiss the top of his head and ruffle his hair playfully. He pulls away and the large boxy smile on his face is one of the most endearing sights you’ve ever seen. He closes the door for you and waves. They all wave goodbye to you, Yoongi holding his paw up and Jin very dramatically blows you a kiss. You giggle and wave back, watching the rearview mirror as they all change back into their wolf form and go darting back into the woods playfully chasing after one another. Today might not have went the way you were planning, but you can honestly say despite the setbacks it was one of the best you’ve had. You have 7 new friends in your life and you can’t wait to get to know them and their way of life, maybe even someday getting to show them yours too.  

[johobi]

The Devil In His Details

Word count: 9.2k

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drug mentions, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), assplay, prostate milking, edging

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686617

A/N: So this was supposed to be 1k words long for an anon that requested bad boy!Jimin in a drabble prompt game. Clearly that didn’t happen. I hope you enjoy it more than I did editing lkfjwalkjf.

Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

Park Jimin.

A slender, regal nose. Two sly eyes that mellow with laughter. A white smile with just the one, imperfect tooth. Cheeks you'd find on a cherub's face, but a jawline hewn with the devil's input.

Everything about his face is an infuriating dichotomy of soft and sharp. And, God, his lips. Full, unfairly alluring, and begging to be kissed. But this is not a man who does much of that. Begging, that is. Kissing? Oh, he does a lot of that. It doesn't extend to you, though, no matter how much you wish it did.

Jimin is the object of your latest fixation. Well. You may say latest, but in reality you've been harbouring something hot and nasty for this guy for most of the academic year. To the faces of your friends, you blame the heartbreak inflicted by your ex-boyfriend. The thing is, you've been over him for months. Without that as a plausible explanation for your misguided crush, though, you have little to offer in substitution. Jimin isn't the type of guy any sensible, law-abiding girl should be cranking her Rabbit up for. Sure, he's so beautiful that his face can cleanse troubled minds. But he’s flying so many red flags it's like swimming in shark-infested waters.

He manspreads across from you in the campus square, leather jacket and black jeans lacquering his body and a cigarette dwindling limply between his lips. A smile occupies his mouth and eyes, the latter until they're mere, charming slits. You find yourself smiling, too. Oh, God. Get yourself together, ____. Fucking infatuated idiot.

You should know better. Jimin is aposematic with his lurid, magenta hair. He's a beacon of rebellion amidst the drab of campus conformation. And, yeah, maybe he looks cool because of that.

But he’s nothing but trouble.

A criminal.

You don't know the extent of his many and varied illegal activities, but you do know that you'd be an idiot to ever involve yourself with him. The lesser of his crimes begin with him not even being enrolled at the very university he utilises as his base of operations. And nor is he shooed away for his overt disregard for campus rules - and, generally, the law - because security lives snugly in his weed-stuffed back pocket. Yep, he's a dealer. Street racer. Brawler. You don't know how many times you've been torn from sleep by his gang's maniacal laughter as they rough up a rival, less attractive one.

He's also a heartbreaker.

And as ridiculous as it is, that's the thing that gives you most reason for pause. Not the drug-peddling, not the violence, but because you're in so deep you want to be sharkbitten. Consumed, bone for bone.

But he never looks your way. Ever. You're not so much a Plain Jane, you don't think, but desperately shy. Especially where your heart's involved. It forgets its function when confronted with someone you like. You take care of your appearance. You've had a few, long-term boyfriends. But whenever you're dumped back at Square One: Single, you're as hopeless in romance as you are in cooking. And all the cuisine you can conjure involves a microwave.

Scenarios of seduction circulate your mind as you ogle him from afar, your thoroughly bitten lip again between your teeth. If only you possessed the confidence your best friend insisted lay latent within you. It would be nothing to strut up to him now and toss your phone into his lap, arms crossed and an expectant smirk curling your mouth. "Gonna give me your number, or what?" you'd sigh - exasperated for the sake of drama - his beautiful face wiped clean of its cocksure facade.

Yeah, that'd be real cool.

But you're still sitting here, legs bobbing out of habit. Jimin is still there, smug and sexy, imparting something hilarious enough, apparently, to wind the comparably attractive guys with him. It's then that your phone purrs between your hands, clutched and previously forgotten.

It's Jisoo, said best friend.

[13:56] slut #1: heyyyy

[13:56] slut #1: guess what

It'll be one of two things. Either she needs your notes because she slept-in in lieu of doing the set reading, or—

[13:56] slut# 1: our floor's having a party tonight

Party.

[13:56] slut #1: come or ill break your legs 

The severity of her threat comes down to your repeatedly declining her invitations. It's not that you don't enjoy parties, because you do. In fact, there’s rarely a time you feel more alive than getting smashed and exorcising your anxiety for those few hours. It's more the fact that it takes a month's worth of mental energy to prevent you flaking out in the lead-up.

Today, though, you're game. Your introversion has been well and truly catered to these last, barren weeks. You're at full charge.

[13:58] yeah, why not

Dots dance across the screen.

[13:58] slut #1: serious???? holy shit that was easy for once

[13:58] slut #1: come to my room at 9

[13:59] the party's in your room?

[13:59] slut #1: no dumbass it's like the whole floor, idek whose party it is but u gotta meet me somewhere right

[14:00] kk. see you then

However unlikely, a feeble hope tugs at your fragile, besotted heart. Maybe he'll go? The organ stutters in your chest when you raise your eyes to where Jimin sits. But he's gone. Suddenly, it all seems like a terrible idea. It's just not meant to be. The universe is communicating it to you as gently as it can.

I need a firm slap. Irked by your nonsensical infatuation, you shoot to your feet and make off in a storm, bag not so much slung but catapulted onto your back. I need to get the fuck over this.

The campus square is a sizeable, open space with the central fountain being its only obstacle. However, by how solid the object is that you suddenly collide with, it seems to have sprouted another.

"Shit!" you gasp, nose flattened sharply, painfully, against something immovable. As you rub it, brows sharp in offense, you peer up into eyes of the thing you've blindly marched into.

Fuck.

Jungkook.

One of Jimin's lackeys.

Before you can locate his magenta-headed leader, however, Jungkook fills the entirety of your field of view. His narrow lips draw tighter; eyes, too. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“U-Uh—”

“Uh?” the musclehead mimics, stooping into your personal space. By instinct, you shrink. At odds with his adorably prominent front teeth, the sneer he wears is nasty. “Anything else?”

An errant glance over Jungkook’s shoulder finds you Jimin. He hangs back, hands in pockets, nonplussed by the confrontation. It’s likely pretty tame in comparison to their usual run-ins. But it frustrates you, nonetheless, that the boy won’t look at you, even now, when the spotlight is searing you.

Jungkook snaps his fingers at the end of your nose and you’re back in the room. “Well?”

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You hack for breath when he exhales a plume of cigarette smoke directly into your face. “I-It won’t happen again.”

The other one with them - Seokjin, the half-ass in your business studies class - claps a hand on Jungkook’s seam-straining shoulder. “‘Roid rage. Sorry, sweetheart. You’re a finance major too, right?”

Before you can even process the unexpected civility of his question, Jungkook rounds on him in ire. “The fuck? You know I don’t take steroids.” His cigarette flares at the corner of his mouth. Like a showboating pidgeon, he puffs out his muscular chest. “This is all hard work.”

Seokjin is clearly unmoved. He blinks an unnecessary amount of times, like it’s a tic of his. His glasses ride up as he crinkles his nose. Then: “Okay. Didn’t know you were too stupid to get a joke though. ‘Roids must be shrinking your brain as well as your dick.”

“What—”

An Off-White jacket streaks across your vision.

“—the fuck—”

A white t-shirt follows it soon after.

“—did you just say?”

Jungkook ripples, shirtless, with such unabated fury he distorts the air surrounding. Or maybe it’s the heatwave.

It’s then, beholding this sudden, aggressive display, that your fear finally surfaces. “Oh my God, what the fuck is happening?” you whisper exclusively to yourself, because to attract attention is to court an ass-beating.

And it’s then, of course, that Jimin finally takes heed of your existence. With a quirk of his head, he stares you down. Well, not so much stare. What he does expresses far less effort. His eyes meander the length of you in their own, good time, before landing on your blanching face. The laziest of smirks possess his lips.

Your heart sprouts wings.

His smirk widens.

Fuck, your heart’s airborne. It’s gonna launch itself out your mouth.

Seokjin dispels Jimin’s sorcery with another, unwisely provocative comment. “Your dick’s shrivelled? Or your brain? I don’t know which one offended you.”

Jungkook pounds his chest once, like an oversexed silverback. “Why you always gotta do me like this, bro? Is it ‘cause I fucked your mom that one time? I thought you were over tha—”

“Fuck you!”

Just when you’d established Seokjin as the pacifist of the group, he begins throttling Jungkook double-handed. The pair slip into an awkward grapple while Jimin looks on.

Looks at you.

Doesn’t even spare a glance for the groups of hurried, whispering students migrating across campus.

Guttural grunts float up from the ground as Jungkook and Seokjin’s scuffle escalates, but their leader pays them no mind in that moment. It’s your opportunity to say something more, but you don’t. Your vocal chords never pull together.

Moment missed.

Jimin sweeps a lock of magenta from his eyes, finally animate. A testy sigh siphons from him. “Get up. You’re making me look bad. Put your fucking shirt on, Jungkook.” His voice, usually soft, strikes like a serpent. Venom coats his tongue. “You represent me, dickheads. Plus, you’re scaring this girl.”

The absurdity of the situation, the apprehension you feel, is muffled for a moment. All you can hear is the rush of blood and Jimin’s vocal acknowledgement of your existence ricocheting in your mind. Girl. You.

It’s stupid. Demeaning, even, snapping up these scraps like a slobbering mongrel.

But exciting.

Having captured Jimin’s attention, you bow to him the gratitude you can’t vocalise. The plan, as you rise, is to hit him with a seductive smile, but you're certain your mouth only stretches awkwardly. Nevertheless, his pretty lips purse for a moment before pulling up, too. “I’m going.” He addresses them, but his eyes are on you.

Jimin takes his leave without further ado. As he passes you his gaze lingers too long, demanding he turn his face. His body ghosts past without contact, but a chilly thrill descends upon you like he's drifting right through your bones. And then he struts away like he owns the place, because he does.

And, God, he owns you, too.

His in-fighting entourage scrabble to catch up with him. Jungkook's hastily gathered clothes scrape the floor as he runs, their expense forgotten. “‘Min-hyung! Wait! We’re sorry!”

"Bye then," you comment, quiet, to their retreating backs. It wasn't quite the first encounter you'd prophesied, but considering Jimin's reputation, it should've been.

Anyway.

Your eyes fall to your phone and this evening's plans.

Party.

---

Jisoo's generously highlighted features bob before you in the muted light. Parts of her face are so illuminescent it looks like scaffolding. "Anyway, I'll be back soon. Get some drinks, loosen up. I need to find Namjoon."

"Okay, but are you actually gonna come back?" Your first beaker of jungle juice is already souring your lips. "'Cause if you're gonna find Namjoon, I don't think you're gonna come back."

Her eyes are everywhere but on you, glossy mouth twisting. “I'll really try! But I also really wanna see him, now I know he's here." Suddenly, your free hand is in her meticulously manicured clutches. "I'm not saying I will disappear, but I might. Please understand! I need dick so bad. Please." And now her eyes are on yours, black as night and just as dangerous. Jisoo is never more serious than when cock is at stake.

You shake yourself free of her flimsy grasp and flimsier promises. "Do what you want, but I don't know anyone in your dorm. If you don't come back in an hour, I'm gonna go."

That was an hour ago.

Within that hour, you consumed three cups of awful booze, lingered awkwardly by the party lights, and recovered zero Jisoos. The only noteworthy happening was some plastered guy insisting you were his boyfriend. So insistent, in fact, that you doubted your own identity by the last of the 15 minutes he spent calling you Yoongi. He lamented endlessly about how difficult it would be to survive the evening without getting in your tight little ass. The only thing that convinced him of the truth to your identity was said, tight-assed man appearing and dragging the lightweight away. Yoongi did have a nice ass, you observed, as they fell back into the throng.

Oh.

And Jimin was here.

Skulking the fuchsia shadows like a perfect predator. Thing is, he's already top of the food chain. No hunting required. Very much evidenced by the girls that swarmed him all night like a shoal of pilotfish. The music was too loud and the light too dim, but for every instance he opened his mouth, his accompanying partygoers exploded into laughter. This seems a skill of his. He has dominion over men and women both.

And you're no exception.

Whenever he was in sight, he drew your eyes. When he was dancing, he drew them lower. And there they remained, never straying from his swivelling hips and straining thighs. The girls danced in circles around him like they were worshipping a pagan idol. Understandable. You coveted him, too, from afar.

But now he's gone. Your cup is empty. Jisoo is getting Namjoon'd.

It's been an hour. You're going home.

There’s enough trash at your feet and liquor loosening your morals that you feel no guilt in dropping your beaker onto the pile. Polished, black shoes with pointed toes enter view and crumple that which you’ve littered. You look up.

“Juh—”

Jimin. It’s Jimin. Neither your mouth nor brain can co-ordinate sufficiently enough to identify him verbally, though. Instead, you gawp, inches from his breathtaking face, bathed in romantic light. “Littering, huh? Kinda rude, don’t you think?” He taunts, tongue between teeth. When you don’t rebut him, he slides an arm up the wall behind you. Sinks closer, until your eyes meet on an intimate level. “What are you doing here, campus girl? Didn’t think this was your kind of thing.”

Righteous indignation roils in you. As for why, it’s unclear. As are most things when relatively tipsy. “How would you know what my kind of thing is? You don’t know me. Also, don’t call me campus girl.” At this proximity, you’re acutely aware of the alcohol on your breath. You dial it down a bit. Turn your head and snort. “That’s rude.”

The alcohol, apparently, has also robbed you of your self-preservation skills. Because never in the light of a sober day would you be slighting a delinquent like this. And not the one you’re besotted with, either. That, then, dawns on you. As does his closeness, and the sweet smell of his own poison of choice.

“Well, I don’t know your name, do I?” Charm inhabits his tone, his smile. God, it’s flustering. Jimin toys with you, thwarting your attempts to evade his eyes. His face follows yours, until it’s all you can do but stop and stare. Fall fully and deeply into him. “‘Cause you’re shy, aren’t you?” He wets his lips then, unfairly. They’re dewy and full and even rosier in this light.

“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt, hypothesizing it being just as juicy. Just as tasty. Your inhibitions are low, but not enough that this is a mistake. Jisoo is right. There’s confidence in you, somewhere. You tap it when you tap a keg.

Jimin looks scandalised. His eyebrows vanish into his hairline. Giddy laughter streams from him. “Pardon?”

“I said, let me suck your dick.” Power floods your bloodstream. Liquid courage mingles with. “I’m pretty good at it, and I really want to. Like, so bad. I think about it a lot.”

If he says no, you no longer have to wonder.

If he says no, you never have to look at him again.

If he says no, you can chase someone wholesome and virtuous.

If he says yes, you get to suck his dick.

“Yeah?” Interest kindles in Jimin’s keen, black eyes. He’s close enough, now, that his body heat feels akin to weight against you. His voice drops below the bass of the music. “What did you think about?”

Are you gonna dirty talk in public?

A quick glance around and they aren’t so much the public anymore as parading monkeys, high on lust and low on decency. Just over from you, there’s a girl getting the least discreet fingerbanging of her life.

So, yeah. You lose a little of your rigidity and tip back your head. Lick your lips with a deliberate tongue. “How pretty your cock probably is. How it’d feel on my tongue, in my throat.” Unconscious or not, Jimin’s pressing to your hip. The subject of your conversation starts soft in his pants, but stiffens with your salacious description. Fuck, you’re tingling, too. “How you’d taste, coming down my throat—”

“Are you for real, campus girl?” Jimin interrupts, breathy. Disbelieving. He almost sounds distressed. Like a donkey that doesn’t wanna walk miles for a dangling carrot. Jimin doesn’t seem to get it, though. He’s the carrot, and dear God you wanna chomp down.

“I told you not to call me that. Guess you’re not interested,” you bluff, because not only are you provocative on booze, you’re also an absolute fucking idiot. There’s a significant chance he’ll tire of your tsundere bullshit and find another open mouth. However, as you turn to leave, fate smiles on you. As does he, when he sandwiches you to the wall, his chest to your back and his mouth a ghost on the nape of your neck.

Chills.

Chills spread where his breath is hot and wet. But still, his lips don’t touch. You can, however, hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me your name.”

The stutter sabotages you somewhat. You’re breathless. “I-It’s ____.”

"____," Jimin repeats with a flick of his tongue, wetting your nape with the slightest of saliva. "Are you for real, ____? Or are you drunk?"

His fingers spread like wildfire across the tops of your thighs, testing the give of your flesh. You exhale as if he's squeezing the soul from you. "I'm for real. I'm not drunk, I've just had enough to realise that if I don't say this now, I never will. How often do you talk to me, after all?"

Jimin's throat rumbles as he contemplates. His lips part by your ear, vocal fry caressing each, careful syllable. "How often do you talk to me?" he poses. The steady, rigid throbbing against your ass suggests that this could've happened sooner.

Reluctant as you are to disturb your clinch, you’re not here to stare at the plastering. It would be a crime to deny yourself the chance to ogle his beauty close-up. With this in mind, you twist against his body, bringing your fronts flush together. God, he throbs all the more potently like this, pressed to the crotch of your dress. Jimin's still smiling, of course, all illegal charm and zero reserve.

A nervous lick of lips. "You're terrifying. Especially when you're surrounded by those guys all the time. That's why I don't talk to you." It’s a half-truth. The other half is your incompetence in flirting.

"And here I was, thinking you were shy," is Jimin’s riposte. "But, clearly, I'm wrong." Those plush, pink lips descend on you before you can blink away the unreality of it. They're softer than any piss-poor imitation of a man's mouth that's come before them. Softer than silk, even. And when they open, syrupy. A mire of heat and wet tongue, caressing away all your prior fears, even if they're legit. It really doesn't matter. Not when you're tasting this sublime man. Not when he suckles at your mouth so sensually, so gently. He can't be that horrific a person when he's holding you with such careful attention. It's too soon when he unties your tongues. "You don't need to be afraid of me," Jimin murmurs thickly to your lips. The lop-sided smile he wears says otherwise. It's a little too close to a sneer. "Well, ____—" he steps back. Lures you with him. "Wanna make this a reality?"

You're giddy as fuck. So much so your legs feel like a Newton's cradle. "Y-Yeah. Take me somewhere—" to speak his name is to make it real— "Jimin."

People blur, merge shapelessly around you as he weaves through their mass, leading you by one, dainty hand. It's not the drink. You're dizzy - high, even - with anticipation so intense it renders all outside his svelte figure indistinct. All there is is him, and what you're about to do. It doesn't even feel like you're tripping up the stairs when you do. You're floating, actually, because he's pulling you up and smirking so salaciously that you're weightless. The only weight is the one nestled deep in your abdomen, punching at your cunt like it knows well what that smug mouth could do.

The two of you stagger into an unoccupied bathroom. It's as grim and grotty as you'd expect of student lodgings, but that matters very little right now. Even though you're painfully germaphobic. The priority is realising you're about to suck off Park fucking Jimin. It hits you so powerfully that, for a very long second, you want to reconsider. After all, he likely has expectations. Confidence flees from you.

"Okay, then. On your knees, ____."

And then it floods back. As does desire.

Jimin perches atop the toilet with poise, its seat flat beneath him. You briefly speculate its cleanliness, but he’s already slinking the denim down his legs and over his knees. They cling in a pool at his ankles, likely impossible to get any further. His visibly wilting cock lounges against the crotch of his CKs, waiting for your intervention. It'll have to wait a little longer, though, because there's nothing on God's awful earth that will hinder your leering at this visual feast. His muscle-strapped thighs are somehow all the thicker hugging the bowl of the toilet. And the tiny, toned waist they taper to is all the confirmation you require to understand that this man is way out of your league. Like, forget international league. You're 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. "Fuck."

The curse is all he needs to understand. Whether it's for the sake of wanking his ego or to titillate you further, Jimin tenses his quads until they're as hard and smooth as varnished oak. All you want is to ride them like a fucking rocking horse. "You making me wait?"

Hell no. Before he can even finish his taunt you're at his feet and kneading his thighs like dense dough. Jimin feels fit. He isn't pliable like lovers gone. He's zero body fat, all thew, all sex. He's everything.

And you're nothing to him.

Tonight, though, you’ll become something.

Your fingers continue upward. And as they do, inward. Where he's slightly fleshier, and by the twitch of his covered dick, more sensitive. "How do you like it?"

"I'm as predictable as any other guy," Jimin half-shrugs, reclining against the cistern. His fingers curl into your hair, though not in any pushy, possessive way. It's almost as though he's simply appreciating its texture. The curve of your scalp. Tingles spring from his touch and arrest your body. "Deep as possible. Don't neglect the shaft. Play with my balls a little," he reels off his litany shamelessly. "If you can take it, lemme fuck your face?"

Each of his suggestions make both your mouth and cunt salivate. You want all of those things and more. That other thing. "We'll see," you say as much to yourself as you do to him. "Let's see what we're working with." You lunge for his waistband with both hands, eager to steal them from his body. Jimin halts you once you peek pubes.

"I'm not sitting my bare ass on this toilet." The grunt he makes is indignant. Adamant.

But you have plans. And so you whip a towel from its rail and coax it beneath him, the makeshift mat feeling dubiously damp. "If you want me to do it good, let me have you without your underwear."

Jimin complies, shifting his weight. Then, with danger perverting his tone: "Then you better do it good, ____."

You perform well under pressure. The pressure that comes with academic deadlines and 10th grade theatre, at least. However, it doesn't extend to sucking the cock of, arguably, the most intimidating, most captivating man you've gawped at from afar. Your previous lovers were diffident and easy to please. It's only through your own, bored invention that you delved deeper into the art of oral with them. You hope it serves you well tonight. "I'll try my best," you challenge, brow cocked, Jimin's boxers successfully purloined. The front of them are tacky to the touch, and this alone incites you. God, you can taste his salt already.

To your dismay, he doesn't resume his careful caressing of your scalp. No, once his bottom half is nude, he splays his thighs obscenely and leans back, fingers curling around the towel-covered toilet seat. From here he peers down his nose at you, a smirk all the while. His torso is one rigid, smooth slope, and you wish selfishy to see it exposed. Asking for that, too, though, might be too much.

And now that your gaze plummets, it doesn't matter. His cock is enough. You'd think it impossible for such an awkward looking appendage to ever earn the term pretty. But, uniform with the rest of him, his is. What he lacks in length he makes up for generously in girth. His cock is chubby and blushing, and, yes, pretty. God, so pretty.

Yes, you'll let him face-fuck you.

The tinkle of Jimin's earrings disrupt your awed silence. He projects impatience: Chewed lips, raised eyebrows, a slight, inquisitive tilt to his head. "This your first time or something?" Magenta falls across his eyes as his focus slips down his own body. He cages his cock inside a delicate fist, nurturing it to its full, thickened capacity. As it grows, so does his filthy smile. "You don't need to lie to me. I can go easy on you."

"This isn't my first time." Your resentment is palpable. Apparently, he enjoys it. As he pumps himself harder, his tongue probes disrespectfully at the corner of his upturned mouth. That only inflames you. "Is it your first time? Are all the rumours false?" Your comeback is risky, but the mood suggests banter is welcome. Perhaps all this big, bad wolf wants is a little, red-faced riding hood to provoke him.

The dare pays off. With one last, long stroke, he lets loose his erection, the concrete appendage slapping his stomach with an admirable thud. Resting back on one hand, he gestures to his waiting cock with the other. "Totally. I'm a good boy, ____. Now stop talking and fucking spit on it."

Your clit jumps. As do you, right into action. With your palms canvassing his inner thighs, you take one last, unenlightened breath before you dive face-first into his musk, pulling aside his cock to nuzzle at its base. To fully savour his scent and warmth. Jimin fills your hand to the extent you're unable to form anything close to a closed fist. Your thoughts are possessed only by your imagination and how wide he could stretch you. How full he could make you. A fucking stampede thuds through your pussy.  "Mm, you have such a nice cock," you murmur around the root of him. It's not so much meant as a compliment, but a statement of pure fact that must be expressed. You're sure he's heard such professions many times.

Yep. "I know, sweetheart." The timbre of his voice is a little heavier. Breathier. As your tongue flicks lazily under the round of his balls, it quivers, too. Nevertheless, he maintains his stoicism. "Why you teasing me down there? You know what I want."

When you pull one of his testicles into your mouth, however, he emits a quiet noise. One that sounds a little like it's something he wants. "Yes, daddy," you mouth around him, full irony. Jimin reacts to it, though. Pushes into your slack grip, looking for friction you're not about to give. It's almost enough to make you roll your eyes. Still, you don't know where the limit to his patience lies. And so you relent and pull your mouth upwards, dragging his sac with your reluctant lips. Jimin tenses when finally you free him, wet, sticky, and back to hanging. And then you're ascending his fat, veiny shaft, lathering the underside with your tongue. Ekeing from him the most delicious gasps of air. His hands go back into your hair, though with far less care this time, grasping at your roots as though to earth him.

"Yeah, that's it, ____. Keep going." Jimin's encouragement is sweeter to the ears than any lauded music. And so is the stifled whine that streams from him when you glaze the tip of his cock with saliva, enough to dribble down its entire length. Once he’s sufficiently spat on, you follow with your mouth. Fuck, it’s a strain to accommodate him. A feat not to scrape him with your teeth. He's so thick you must look vulgar stuffing him between your lips like this. A wayward glance tells you he's enjoying the lewd visual, though. His mouth is parted and breath puffs quickly from him. His eyes, normally sharp with wit, are dull. Fully blown. Jimin devours the sight of your struggle, as you do his uncomfortably chubby dick. His nails imprint crescents of self-restraint into the skin of your scalp. "F-Fuck. Yeah. Suck me."

You do. More fervently than you have any mouth-watering candy. Your lips work the head of his cock with measured pressure, back-and-forth, to the tune of his increasingly whiny vocalisations. Instinct takes him, sometimes, and he jerks without thought into you. Your teeth graze him, then, but it seems like an ineffective deterrence. No, sometimes he moans when you catch him, and for that you reward him with tongue on his frenulum.

That gets him the most.

His thighs ripple, his back bends. His head of magenta hair falls back.

"You—mmmmh—like that?" is your an attempt at a taunt, dulled by the cock wedged in your cheek.

"You suck dick like a fucking slut." Jimin is panting now, a sheen of perspiration oiling his face. Fuck, he looks dewy and downright dirty. The crotch of your panties is saturated with want for him. "You pretend you're all innocent and shit, but, Jesus, you're a dirty bitch."

With an enthusiastic flex of his thighs, he struggles free from the jeans binding him and props up a foot, knee bent and accentuating just how shapely his calves are. Spread like this, he's sordid. Wanton. He's getting desperate, and, against all expectations, unafraid to show it. Men with his level of machismo are typically reserved. It turns you on, dials you into overdrive, just how unabashed his enjoyment is. "Deeper. Can you take it deeper, ____? P-Please," Jimin whimpers on cue, resolve thready.

Briefly, you alight from his cock. He whimpers about that, too. This man is the terror of your college campus. And now he’s a needy, sex-swollen mess. "Depends. Can I edge you?" You're actually decently sober at this point, but bravado still brews in you nevertheless.

Jimin, no longer basking, purses his lips. Glares with the fury of a thousand blue-balled men. "Don't you fucking dare. Try it and I'll take over. I’ll come all over your smug little face."

The threat, in actuality, is more a solemn hope of yours. "Okay, okay. I won't edge you." Your hands keep busy while your overtaxed mouth relishes its moment of emptiness. You funnel your energy, instead, into keeping his cock stiff, five fingers twisting along its lubed-up length. With the other hand, you return to your earlier fixation and palm tenderly at his distended balls. A delicate quivering radiates from his core muscles. "But I really wouldn't mind you coming all over my face."

Everything about him tenses, then releases. His eyelids, low, bear the weight of arousal. "For real?"

"Might as well, my knees are already gross. You can get me dirtier if you like, Jimin." And then you're pulling down the straps of your dress until your breasts spill out, already pebbled and desperate for a fondling they won't get tonight. "Or here. Or everywhere. Just go to town."

Jimin gulps down stuffy, humid air. Concentrates a little too hard on your uncovered tits. Rocks a little too enthusiastically into your undulating grip. "God, yeah. I wanna come all over you. Spit in your fucking mouth." Suddenly it's not just your sole fist grasping him. He's clutching you, clutching him. Squeezing your knuckles until they're white and his cock is very, very red. "I'll bend you over the bathtub and fuck you 'til I break your hips. 'Til your pussy's dripping cum."

“Jesus—”

You’re so luststruck by his vulgar fantasies that it’s almost too late when you come to your senses. Jimin fucks your hands so ferociously it’s clear that the beast has taken him. You snatch away your hands before he wastes himself all over them. His come away, too, hovering in the air and demanding answers.

"Okay, well you just edged yourself." A giggle slips out while you watch him heave breath like he's nearing death. In a way, it's cute. Jimin's cheeks are full and flushed, eyes rounder than moons. He himself seems taken aback by his lapse into unadultered lust. "Don't take away the only reason I came here."

Despite Jimin's earlier, emphatic disapproval of being edged, he sure seems appreciative now. He basks in the near-rush, mellower than before. Gently - perhaps affectionately? - he cradles the back of your head and draws you in, a thumb pressing caresses to your cheek. This sudden sweetness, it's abnormal. Harmful. You don't want it. You don't want to see his good side, nor fall for it.

But here he comes, eyes searching, lips begging.

"Then deepthroat me like I asked."

Nevermind.

The pompous smirk is back. He reclines, his one leg up like an ode to Michaelangelo, dick tall and looking just as self-important. You're decided. It's time to make him squeal. "Okay. No edging. But let me make it feel even better?"

Jimin drips scepticism. "How?"

Fully anticipating rejection, you're direct. "Lemme stick a finger up your ass."

Again, he surprises you. Insomuch that revulsion doesn’t immediately sour him. "The fuck?" A husky chuckle rattles in his chest, instead. "Is that your secret technique?"

"Kinda." Your shoulders draw inward as self-consciousness consumes you. "I totally get it if you don't want to. But the other guys I've been with enjoyed it."

"Then do it, whatever. Don't let me go soft, though, ____," Jimin warns with pouty lips. His cock leans demonstratively forward, threatening flaccidity. "I'm feeling neglected."

"Tragic," you coo, feigning empathy. Looking as petulant as he, you suckle softly around the head of his dick, enkindling his passion before it fades. Your tongue does work around its bulbous ridge, teasing where it makes him squirm most. Then, with his demands in mind, your mouth descends over his modest stretch of shaft, worshipping each, precious inch as you go.

“Yes, baby. That’s it, that’s it.”

You dip and rise, tug and suck in a tantalising advance toward his base, wringing the precum from him. It's salty and sticky and you love it on your tongue, love smearing him with his own mess. Want to smear him with your mess.

“Fuck, yeah. K-Keep—unh!—going!”

The more of him you gobble, the more erratic his body behaves. Beneath your hands, his sweat-tacked thighs are tremulous, tensing without rhyme or reason. Jimin has little control over  any of his extremities. His hands are uncomfortable fists in the back of your hair, like he's reining in a wilful mare. And then there's his beautiful, unstopped moaning, so sinful your clit thumps like a bass drum between your legs. You moan, too, slurping the end of his leaking cock to the back of your throat so he can better feel it. The reverberations must reach him, because Jimin bucks, then, wildly enough to trigger a gag. "Ugh, y-yes, fuck!"

You can't so much as master Savasana in yoga, but what you are adept at is gag control. And though you cough a little, slaver a little, nothing but sudden death will stop you now. Nose-deep in Jimin’s considerately trimmed pubic hair, you trap him momentarily there, the whole of his cock nestled deep in your throat's constraints.

Jimin looks half-way gone. His hands hover above your shoulders, fingers curling and twitching peculiarly, like he’s about to astral project. Indeed, all you can see through the sliver in his lightly-closed lids is the white of his eyes. Every so often Jimin rolls his pelvis towards you, but you stymy his attempts to face-fuck you until you're ready to see him over the finish line. Grasping his hips, your thumbs take the liberty of feeling the lines of his obliques, and, God, you've never hated an item of clothing more than the t-shirt he's wearing.

"More," he splutters, then, swivelling against your hold like he's compelled. "More, give me more. I'm so close, I—I wanna fucking drown you in cum—" an ungodly groan bursts forth as he whips himself into a frenzy of his own making— "Fuck, you suck cock so good—so good, baby."

Of all things, baby is what heats your cheeks. The endearment feels like long-coveted validation. "Bear with me," is what you try to communicate, but considering the weight of his cock is pinning your tongue, it comes out garbled. Jimin doesn't even notice, so rapt is he in your mouth's luxury. Occasionally, he rewards your efforts with globs of pre-ejaculate that slide smooth down your throat.

Not wanting to interrupt his well-earned crawl to orgasm, you bob on his cock hands-free, employing them instead to locate one of the condoms populating your purse. Keeping pace is difficult enough that it's not long before Jimin, unsteady on his perch, growls in caution.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," he grunts through gritted teeth, scrutinising your every, unrelated move. When he sees what it was you sought, the growl becomes a snarl. The disdain his eyes convey is almost comical. "Don't make me come in that. I'm not coming in that," he snorts, placated momentarily by your refocused efforts on his plump little dick. As you tear open the wrapper, you tongue his cock hole like a striking snake. "Oh, sh-shit!—H-Hey, if you don't want me to come on you I won't, but—"

Slobber splatters the towel in your haste to cut him off. "It's not for you."

Rather than court more questions, you demonstrate. Hastily, you unroll the condom over your longest finger. Then, with his unerring attention, you squat back on your heels and hike up your dress, allowing him a view onto your panty-wrapped cunt. Jimin doesn't even notice that your mouth is gone from him while he’s leching. It’s just long enough an opportunity to dip your rubber-sheathed digit deep into the wetness of your pussy. He makes noises as you do, quiet ones, ones that stress how much he wants to be inside it. When you withdraw, your lips lock back onto him, kissing his cock where it's most swollen and sensitive. "Try and relax, okay? It'll feel good quicker if you do," you offer in advice, your cunt-slick finger bypassing his balls and slithering along his perineum. Already he's reacting, even from this slight, external stimulation.

"I'm relaxed as fuck," Jimin puffs defiantly, despite his initial recoil. "Show me what you're all about, ____."

"Alright then." Ever so carefully, you wheedle the tip of your finger past his asshole, stopping when his body tells you to. "Jimin, if you can’t handle it—"

They're unextraordinary words, but, apparently, the magic ones. Immediately he loosens around you. "I can. Shut up."

You do. By engulfing his erection without warning. Drawing on it like you would a drinking straw, enough to fluster him into distraction. The result is an easy, sailing entry into his ass, right up to your knuckle. It's not difficult to locate his prostate from there, as deliciously swollen as it is. With a cursory couple of taps, Jimin's body responds in new, mesmerizing ways.

"W-What the fuck—ah!" he cries through his confusion, the unfamiliar feeling prying his eyes wide. Jimin can only watch, overwhelmed, as you manipulate him from within, his back arching clean from the cistern. He's suspended by sensation, a wobbling tension keeping him upright. As you slurp mercilessly at his cock, you fix him with a look. Jimin's not there to receive it, though. His expression says his brain short-circuited the moment you started stroking him internally. And then, with a choked gasp, he returns to the corporeal, yanking at your hair like a man possessed. Only, he's pulling you away. "Stop, oh fuck, I'm gonna piss in your mouth." Distress and arousal fight for his features. The latter is winning, if the stutter of his hips is anything to go by. He's caught between two worlds of pleasure; bookended by penetration and your softly nursing mouth. All he can do is thrust from one to the other.

You come away with his hands, just briefly. Kitten-lick his purpling cockhead. "It's okay. You won't pee, it's meant to feel like that. Just go with it, unless you don't like it."

The blush dusting his cheeks deepens. You can't imagine it's because he's embarrassed, but for a moment he looks vulnerable. Human. Beautiful. Your heart trips. "Whatever," he attempts nonchalance, but his needy fragility is fooling no-one. "I like it, so don't stop. As long as you're sure i won't piss in your mouth. I mean, I don't care if I do, but you might—ungh!"

Swallowing a man's cock is as good as gagging them. Jimin falls quieter than night when you welcome him back into your warmth, working his shaft as well as your aching jaw will allow. Your tongue, too, is tiring, and yet you only twist around him all the more ravenously. It's not just his body that’s contorting when you pound at his prostate, now. His mouth hangs open unchecked, all thought for appearances gone. Within, his tongue writhes, articulating nothing but bodiless sounds.

You rub harder. Suck harder. More insistent. Jimin's eyebrows knit so tightly his nose crinkles. And when he does, a flood of runny, salty liquid squirts into your mouth, catching you off guard and in-between breaths. It's a wonder you don't drown when it keeps coming, this thin, bountiful expulsion. "F-Fuck, God—what is that—" he whines between milkings. As it seeps from your stuffed mouth, Jimin is enraptured. With his focus on you, you regurgitate it noisily over his cock, dousing him in his own fluids. "Fuck, i-it feels so good. I want more." His hands are either side of your face, fingers at your temples, palms pressuring your cheeks. "More." With a grunt, he hoists his previously dangling leg onto the toilet seat with the other. He squats, open and obscene, the picture of aroused anguish. "More. Harder," he jerks, marionette-like, to fuck himself on your finger, to propel his cock further down your throat. You're prepared for this onslaught now, mouth wide and tongue laying dormant as he rams his tip to your tonsils. Each thrust pushes more of his leakage from your mouth until you're drooling like a starving dog. And he's transfixed by it, teeth grinding, gripped by a terrifying hunger. "Fuck. Take it, take me, oh, shit—t-ta—"  

Nothing much else comes from Jimin but discharge, his face contorting as his body does, locked and straining. The motion of his hips slows until it ceases. There, he floats, with unseeing eyes, his orgasm approaching in an unavoidable swell. The throbbing that radiates from his buried cock is the final tell you chance before you cough him from your mouth, kneeling tall before him, breasts and face a blank canvas. You don't push him that last step so much as hammer him, battering his prostate until his mouth twists in devastation. Jimin's eyes are so wide it's like you're fucking the fear of God into him. He rises from his squat, millimetre by millimetre, as you slap your palm to his taint; his bloated balls. "C-Coming, I'm coming—" is all he can rasp as his soul departs and streaks your face once, twice—your eyelids fall closed as thick, viscous white weights down your lashes. Robbed of your sight, his groans hit louder, deeper. They resonate with agony, almost. And still he paints you, your throat, your neglected tits. "Oh my God, I—"

“That’s it, Jimin. Empty yourself on me.”

As the deluge dies away, you wipe your eyes free of cum and slide yourself from his spasming asshole. You expect to see him sat there, clutching his softening cock, but instead he’s sat back, hands-free and seeing constellations on the ceiling. "You came without touching your dick? Damn. That's restraint," you chuckle, your mouth feeling oddly loose. Too big. Too empty. When Jimin doesn't respond: "You okay?"

He stirs briefly from catatonia, though he continues to stare spaceward. "I'm good. I'm good. I think." A laugh comes out, but it's like he's forgotten what they should sound like. "Well, that was fucking awesome." A few, dumbstruck seconds later, Jimin returns to earth with a shaky sigh and that damn smirk. Finally, he looks at you. "Whoa. I got you messy as fuck."

A deadpan blink is all you can spare him when most of your body is protesting some type of pain. Your jaw, particularly, feels unhinged. "Yeah. You didn't notice that before?" You slip the latex from your finger and lob it at the trashcan. You miss.

"I did, but I was, like, coming my brains out. I didn't know what the fuck I was seeing, other than it was good." With an unsteady hand, he flattens back his soaked bangs and stares at you, eyelids heavy. His cheeks are stained pink with exertion. "You look so hot like that. Fuck." And though his body must be leaden after satiation, he pulls you up to your knees, until your torsos nearly touch. Stops just short of smearing himself with his own ejaculate. Instead, he cups one of your soiled breasts with a small, soft hand, thumbing his cum across the nipple. Being touched here, now, after such deprivation, it's like a kiss of life to your cunt. It roars back to life with a bitter vengeance. But Jimin remains modest in his touches. Doesn't stray much from your one, sticky breast. No, he's more focused on you. Your face. Studying all there is to know about its shapes. And he's inscrutable as he does it. It makes you nervous. "Well." It's scarcely more than a whisper. "Thank you," he mumbles, soft and awkward, like he's never before expressed appreciation for anything. And then he kisses you again, though it feels like it's for the first time. It's slow, intimate, with lazy tongue and spent breaths in between. It makes your heart race for several, terrifying reasons. You break apart, then. "Can I do anything for you?"

"N-No, that's okay." The proposition is unexpected. And with the way you're feeling, dangerous. "I got what I came for. I had fun. Thank you, too." You rise to standing, weathering the crack of your joints as you go. "I'll just clean up quickly."

Jimin is already towelling down his own, comparatively unscathed body. He stands, too, though with far more grace. As he feeds himself back into his too-tight jeans, he extends the towel to you. "If you're sure." A tinge of something colours his tone. Disappointment? "Maybe next time."

Next time?

Jimin's semen begins to crust on your chin. The towel twists in your hands. "What?"

There's an indifference to his body language that doesn’t quite ring true. He shrugs on his jacket. "Yeah. Next time, right?"

For several seconds you both stand there, locked in an unsaid exchange. The air is pregnant with meaning.

The door flies open.

"There you are!" In Jungkook strolls, bleary-eyed and with no clear bearing on his surroundings. "Someone said they saw you come in here." His gaze is hazy as it lands on you and your poorly shielded tits. And then it’s on your face again, where Jimin's spunk is heaviest. "Holy shit."

What feels like a century of shame passes, but it's no more than a microsecond before Jimin is slamming the point of his boot into Jungkook's abdomen. "Get the fuck out!" He bellows, octaves deeper than all this past half hour. Masculinity oozes from his squared shoulders and jutted jaw. The hardness is in his eyes, too. They're like steel as they cut Jungkook down, unchanging even as the younger man claws at his gut and stumbles back. "Don't fucking barge in on me again. This ain’t for you to see."

"I-I'm sorry, 'min-hyung." Jungkook slurs his words past comprehension. "C-Call me wh-when yuh wha-wanna split."

Jimin folds his arms. Tucks balled fists inside. "Yeah, now go."

Unfortunately for Jungkook, the gang-leader catches that last, errant look at your naked breasts. And for that he is rewarded with another swift kick; to his retreating backside, this time. Though you can't see him behind the door, you hear the impact of his fall to all-fours and grimace. Jimin's line of sight tracks low. Jungkook must be crawling away. "Go and sober up, you stupid piece of shit. We're going soon."

The door slots back into its frame. Jimin lingers there a little longer than necessary, his head bowed to the panelling. "Uh." Again, he's different. Transformed. Someone more timid stands in Jimin's place. Ruffles the back of his well-tousled hair. "Sorry. He's a dipshit."

"It's okay," you laugh. You have to, because the entire scenario is astounding. "You didn't have to kick him, though. Twice."

Arms criss-crossing his chest, Jimin watches as you wipe away his residue. For some reason, you’re more self-conscious now than when he put it there. "He deserved it. He's an idiot. Idiots don't learn unless you kick them in the ass. I didn't kick him in the balls, at least. And for that, he should be thanking me."

Clearly, your views on appropriate punishment diverge. Jimin inhabits a different world to yours. It's unnerving. And a little exciting, even though it shouldn’t be. "I'll defer to your judgment in his case." Your straps come up and over your shoulders. On inspection, suspicious white stains dot your dress despite your attempts to prevent that. Hopefully everyone is so smashed by this point that they can’t distinguish it from any of their other surroundings. "Okay, I'm gonna go. My dorm's just across from this one."

"I'll walk you. It's not safe." There's a certainty to Jimin's words that speaks of his experience. Ironically, it's probably safer out there while he's tied up in here. "Lots of scumbags out there that will target girls who are alone."

Fully covered, now, you clutch your purse in front of the worst of the splattering. You want to say something, so you do. You feel like you've earned it. "Not you?"

So self-assured, Jimin is. For a moment, though, he isn't. His smile flickers. "Never. I'm not about that. And I'll thrash anyone who is."

The answer pleases you. Diminishes his other activities somewhat. Somewhat. Just enough that you can go home and fuck yourself into a guiltless coma. "Okay. Well, it was fun. Don't worry about walking me. It's literally just across from here and there are still people around. I gotta find my friend first, anyway.”

Another shrug. Then, with the same nonchalance, he offers up his phone to you. "'Kay."

Eyes on him rather than the device, you take it from him. "What's this?" The screen displays a newly created contact. The phone number is blank. The contact name, though?

Litterbug.

It's hard to scoff at it when you love it so much. "What the hell? That's me?"

"Yeah. Gimme your number?" Jimin grins, brazen-faced. The temptation to kiss him is almost insurmountable. "I wanna see you again, litterbug."

You smile, too. Until you don't. "I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea. I didn't plan on anything past this."

If Jimin's shaken by the snub, he hides it masterfully. His smile isn't quite so burnished, though. "Neither did I, but then this happened, and I want it to happen again, ____. Let me show you just what I can do for you."

God, it's tempting. A bite of that apple is worth being cast from Eden. But your heart is weak and liable to entwine far too easily. And he's not the type of man that should occupy space outside of your depraved fantasies. "How many girls with cute pseudonyms do you have on there?" you deflect, knowing well the answer. Hearing it might temper your hopes somewhat.

"I don't give out my actual number to anyone." Jimin doesn't miss a beat of breath. "Only those that matter to me. Or might do," he adds, quieter, losing his bullishness altogether. "But, do what you want." His palm lays flat in expectation of receiving his phone back empty, but you hesitate. Look down at the vacant space. You could fill that.

You want to.

"Okay, there I am." With a flourish of thumbs and a final tap, your name is input and the contract sealed.

The Devil smiles. "Cool." His fingers linger on yours when you return the device. They're soft like charmeuse, and just as expensive. Because this will cost you everything, you're sure. "Can I see you tomorrow? So you can explain to me exactly what it is you just did to my ass?"

Tomorrow? Jimin’s keen. And you’re smiling again. “Sure. I’ll give you a practical demonstration.”

[seoulessnights]

too late

You awoke with a headache, your throat parched. You groaned as you slowly opened your eyes….and found yourself staring into the eyes of Jinyoung, his shaggy dirty blonde hair disheveled, his normally sharp eyes drooped down into a smile. 

“‘morning beautiful,” Jinyoung whispered, as he shifted through the white covers, revealing his tattooed, muscular body.

Shit. Seeing Ash’s shirtless body instantly woke you up, and not in a good way. Your worst fear was slowly coming together as you took in the scene before you. The room was heavy with the smell of alcohol. And guilt. So much guilt. Panicking, you fumbled through the covers, desperately searching for your phone.

“Looking for this?” Jinyoung, noticing your pale expression, handed you your phone. You quietly thanked him, as you unlocked your phone, preparing yourself for the worst.

28 missed calls from Harry. And what seemed like an endless stream of text messages. hey babe, i’m having dinner with the h1ghr guys. hope you’re having fun with your friends!

hope not too many guys are hitting on you, or i might just have to show them how hard i’ve been working out recently. just kidding, have fun babe!

hey honey, i’m heading home now. hope you’re not getting too drunk!

Y/N? can you give me a call when you get this message?

Is everything okay? I tried calling your friends as well, but no one’s picking up.

Hope I can hear from you tomorrow. I love you. good night.

Your heart sank, as you could sense Harry’s mood shift throughout the night from happy to worried to…scarily calm and resigned. You could feel your face getting hot as tears pricked your eyes. You had fucked up. 

“What’s wrong?” Hearing your shaky breath, Jinyoung gently hugged you from behind. You winced at his touch. Sensing your reaction, Jinyoung immediately let you free of his embrace.

You turned around to face Jinyoung. The more you stared at his face, the more you started to piece together recollections of last night. Downing drink after drink with your friends. Getting introduced to the Ambition gang. Playfully interacting with Jinyoung. And then suddenly, Jinyoung’s lips pressed against yours, his arms around your waist, your hands in his hair. Your tongues intertwined. There were a few bits missing in between, but you remember somehow ending up at Jinyoung’s apartment, and then…. Your head hurt. You needed to leave Jinyoung’s apartment immediately and talk to Harry. You got out of bed, dressing yourself. The mere action of picking up your clothes scattered on the ground and hurriedly trying to dress yourself, away from the gaze of Jinyoung made you feel so ashamed. You could finally understand the shame that trailed the phrase ‘the morning after’. Sensing your somber mood, or maybe getting the message from the way you cowered from his touch, Jinyoung didn’t say anything this time. He merely watched as you got dressed and headed towards the door. “This was a huge mistake”

You spoke facing Jinyoung, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his body still half exposed. Jinyoung stared at his feet, avoiding eye contact, as he nodded. It was a sad sight, but you didn’t have any room in your heart to feel bad for this dejected, tattooed boy when you had your own boyfriend to worry about. “I’m sorry. it won’t happen again.” You whispered this promise, although it was unclear as to who you were truly addressing. Leaving Jinyoung behind, you quietly slipped out of his bedroom. 

However, you didn’t make it very far. As you opened the door of Jinyoung’s apartment to leave, you almost collided head first into someone. You looked up, only to realize it was Harry. Your sweet, loving, soft Harry, who now looked at you with an expression so full of hurt and betrayal that it physically hurt to look at him. You were surprised to see him here, but you should’ve known. Both Harry and Jinyoung ran in a relatively small circle of rappers, and Harry probably started asking around when you didn’t answer any of his calls or messages. You couldn’t imagine the devastation he must’ve felt when he had to hear the news of you and Jinyoung through the words of another rapper. “Where is he?”

Harry’s voice was cold, devoid of any emotion or warmth that normally accompanied him. So cold that it made you wince. You tried to reach out to him, but he quickly backed away.

“Harry,” you managed to say. “let’s go back to my place and talk. Not here.” You knew you were being selfish. You knew you were furthering his hurt with every word you were saying. But you didn’t want to drag Jinyoung into this, especially when your involvement with him was so meaningless, so arbitrary. It could’ve been anyone. It just happened to be Jinyoung. “Harry, please..” you pleaded, as Harry blankly stared back with his dark brown eyes. Those eyes, which once held so much love and warmth, now only reflected hurt and betrayal. And you were the cause for both, which was why you were ready to take full responsibility, even if it would cost you your relationship. *

“Why Y/N....? Was what we had… not enough?”

Once you convinced Harry to go to your place to talk, the two of you sat in lengthy silence. Harry was the first to break this quiet, as he shifted his glance from his fidgeting hands to now focus on your face. Not once during the course of your relationship had Harry raised his voice. Even now, when his yelling would actually be justified, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, his voice broke as he spoke, his face wet with tears. He had always thought of those who were cheated on as clueless and foolish. How could you not know when your significant other was going behind your back sleeping with other people? Yet here he was, the scorned lover. There were no warning signs at all. Or were there? That he just happened to overlook? “I..I don’t know” you answered, unable to meet his eyes. You weren’t lying. You truly had no reason or excuse as to what happened last night. In truth, you were just as surprised as he was. 

“I love you so much, Harry. I…I really don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.."

Seeing you cry made Harry’s heart break. Even though you were responsible for the anguish and pain he went through for the past 12 hours or so, he still couldn’t bear watching you cry. He wanted to hug you, comfort you, and tell you that it was going to be okay. But he wasn’t so sure if it was going to be. The image of you walking out of Jinyoung’s apartment was now etched in his mind, and he was subconsciously replaying this over and over again, along with imaginations of what happened the night before. He couldn’t stand watching you cry, but he also couldn’t be near you right now. “I’m so sorry…I messed up” you confessed, as tears continued to fall. You knew this was it. There was no going back to the blissful state your relationship was in just the day before. You had the most perfect relationship, and you had gone and ruined it. And for what?

“I know you can’t forgive me now. I understand… I… I just want to say that I’m sorry..” Finally steadying your breath, you managed to return Harry’s gaze as you spoke. Harry nodded. The two of you continued to sit in heavy silence for what seemed like hours. 

“I think I should go.”

Harry, again, was the one to break this silence. His eyes looked sunken into his face, and he looked exhausted. He rubbed his face as he turned to leave your apartment.

“I’m so sorry”. You whispered towards his figure.

“I know,” he said, his back still turned against you. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, as if there was a small part of him that wanted to stay and try to talk and work things out. But he knew better. He knew that what was best for him right now was space. Space and time away from you. 

“I love you,” You offered your last bit of selfishness. Even though you knew you ruined your relationship, you couldn’t help but leave room for hope. 

“I…know,” 

Harry sighed, as he turned your door knob, leaving you, once again, with a room full of guilt. 

_____________________________________________________________________

In the midst of all the angst scenarios of the guy cheating on you, here is something kind of different - you cheating on our beloved Harry. Hope you guys enjoyed this one :-)

[headcanonsandmore]

‘Emerging Feelings’

This is a cute little drabble/ficlet that I thought up the other day. Set during the summer between third and fourth year, in the time Hermione was staying at the Burrow. Expect fluffiness, blushing faces, and -given the title- emerging feelings. Hope you like it!

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                    Read on FFN.                                 Read on AO3. 

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Hermione Granger stumbled through the fireplace of the Burrow, trailing soot.

‘Hermione, dear; hello!’

‘Mrs Weasley!’

Hermione smiled as the redheaded matriarch pulled her into a big hug. The Burrow’s kitchen was filled -as usual- with the sounds of potatoes being peeled, pots being washed, and chickens clucking outside the door.

‘Have you been enjoying your summer so far, Hermione?’

‘Oh, yes, very much so!’ The bushy-haired witch grinned. ‘Thank you so much for inviting me to stay, by the way!’

‘It’s our pleasure, dear. Ron should be down here soon; he’s been talking about nothing except your visit for the past few weeks, after all…’

Hermione felt her stomach make a weird lurch. It had been doing that for a while now, whenever Ron’s name was mentioned. It had started at the second year, and had only grown stronger over time.

At first she had dismissed it as a symptom of her petrification, but (after the summer break between second and third year) it had clearly not dissipated. It had made third year especially confusing, even discounting the brief time that Ron and herself were not speaking. That had been more painful than she had to admit. She had always understood that she wasn’t an easy person to get along with. She hadn’t ever had friends before she was at Hogwarts, after all. But being friends with Harry and Ron had been a welcome change. Which made it all the more upsetting when neither of them had been speaking to her.

Harry and Ron were a package deal; they had always been inseparable, even from the first day of first year. Hermione understood that –when push came to shove- she was still something of an outsider in their little trio. The only girl. The only bookworm. It didn’t take a lot of effort to see that she didn’t fit in with the two boys easily.

However, their reconciliation had shown that -while they might have had outward differences- the three of them really did work best as a trio. And she was so happy that they were friends again.

She had wondered at the time why her estrangement from Ron seemed to hurt her more than her estrangement with Harry had done. After all, they were both her best friends, so why was she more upset over Ron not speaking to her? Yes, she had been upset about not being friends with Harry, but -by contrast- The idea of not being friends with Ron felt like a dagger pushing against Hermione’s heart.

Well, Ron clearly didn’t think Hermione was the outsider. Because he’d invited her to his house. Although she had never mentioned it, Hermione had always been slightly jealous of Harry for staying at the Burrow. She knew it was silly to think that way (Harry’s relatives were awful people, by the sounds of it), but it just seemed to hammer home the fact that Ron was clearly closer with Harry than with her.

But this was different. He had invited her - by way of owl- to stay at the Burrow for a large part of the summer. Hermione wasn’t really all that bothered about the Quidditch World Cup, but it was a good opportunity to spent time with Ron. And Harry. Obviously, Harry would be turning up later on.

It wasn’t as if she was just hoping to spend time alone with Ron. That would be ridiculous. He was her friend. It was probably just that Hermione had never had friends before, and therefore didn’t know yet how to handle things.

Of course. She was Ron’s friend. Staying at his house.

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts, however, as the door of the kitchen banged open.

‘Hermione! Hi!’

Before Hermione quite knew what was happening, Ron had crossed the kitchen and pulled her into a hug. Goosebumps erupted up her arms, and she was suddenly aware that she was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

Oh, dear…

Hermione could feel Ron’s chest pressed up against her, and her stomach seemed to flip over. Had Ron’s torso always been that well defined? His body heat was so overwhelming, and his distinctive Ron smell filled Hermione’s nostrils.

The feel of Ron’s body pushed up against her own seemed to burn through her clothes. Although it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. It was –however- simultaneously wonderful and terrifying.

‘R-Ron! Hello!’

The redhead didn’t seem to notice Hermione’s flustered expression as he pulled away. Although his ears seemed to turn slightly red. Probably just a trick of the light.

‘It’s great to see you, Hermione.’ Ron said, before a confused expression clouded his face. ‘Wait… are you okay?’

Hermione nodded vigorously. She couldn’t dare tell him that the feel of his body against hers had sent shockwaves through her entire being, and reduced her usually-teeming brain to an incomprehensible mush.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he would ever see her in the same way, anyway.

‘Yes, Ron.’ Hermione said, sadly as he picked up her suitcase. ‘I’m fine. Same old Hermione.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

 ‘CANNONBALL!’

Hermione promptly dropped her book in surprise. Ron had appeared by the pond, wearing only a pair of swimming shorts, and promptly jumped into the water, his legs tucked up in front of him.

‘Shove off, Ron!’ Ginny moaned, spitting water out of her mouth nearby. ‘Hermione doesn’t want to see your freckled excuse for a chest!’

Ron emerged, grinning and brushing his long hair out of his eyes.

‘Sorry, Hermione,’ he said, turning apologetically to the bushy-haired witch sat on the side. ‘Did I make you drop your book?’

Swimming over to her, Ron dived again, emerging with the now-soaked book in his hand. His blue eyes glinted like orbs in the sunlight.

‘My bad,’ he said, handing it over to her. ‘You can get mum to get the water off if you like.’

Hermione took a couple of seconds to respond. Her brain seemed to have short-circuited. A shirtless Ron Weasley was staring up at her, his wet hair pushed to the side, water trickling down his chest, and …. since when did Ron have muscles?

‘Y-yes, thank you, Ron!’ Hermione stammered, taking the book hurriedly and standing up. ‘I’ll-I’ll go do that now!’

‘Oh, okay.’ Ron said, looking a little confused by her reaction. ‘Dunno why you’re reading a book instead of swimming; it’s lovely in the water.’

Hermione didn’t answer. The thought of standing in front of Ron wearing nothing but a swimming costume suddenly seemed impossibly brave. What on earth was wrong with her? This was just Ron, after all.

Ginny (a shrewd expression on her face) hurriedly climbed out of the pond, and wandered into the house with Hermione.

‘Hermione?’

‘Y-yes, Ginny?’

‘Could you -by any chance- explain why the sight of my brothers’ chest seemed to reduce you to a stammering wreck?’

Hermione felt her cheeks glow. Oh, god; Ginny had noticed! That meant Ron had probably noticed her weird behaviour as well! She didn’t think she could stand the thought of him teasing her over it- wait, no; that was ridiculous. Ron would never do that. He wasn’t the sort of person who’d maliciously taunt someone over something like this. Fred and George? Definitely. But Ron wouldn’t. He was a sweet boy. A little prattish at times, yes. But he was still a sweet, kind-hearted boy. Maybe that’s why she liked him so much-

Wait, what was she even thinking? Yes, of course, she liked Ron. He was her friend, after all. But -then again- why had she reacted so weirdly⸺?

‘Oh, you fancy him!’

Ginny had clearly read the expression that was no-doubt plastered all over Hermione’s face. A shiver went up Hermione’s spine, and her stomach seemed to flip over. That wasn’t possible! It just wasn’t possible that she could…. that she could…

‘W-what?’

‘You fancy Ron!’ Ginny exclaimed, in a hushed tone (the house- after all- was very small and very busy). ‘You fancy him!’

‘W-what? N-no, I don’t⸺’

‘Ooooh, you do!’ Ginny continued, looking terribly excited. ‘That would explain why you’ve been staring at him so much!’

Staring at him? Has she really been doing that? She was certain that she hadn’t been. But -then again- how could she be sure? It wasn’t as if she was keeping track of how long she looked at Ron every day. Surely, she wasn’t looking at him more than she looked at -say- Harry.

But she didn’t look at Harry in that way. Harry was like a brother to her. But Ron … Ron on the other hand… was something very different. Yes, he was her best friend. But not in the same way as Harry was. Did she… did she really….?

Impossible. It was impossible, surely.

‘I… I don’t stare at Ron!’

‘Couldn’t have fooled me. As soon as he dived into the pond, you looked like he’d just snogged you!’

S-s-snogged her? Hermione’s face seemed to grow warmer and warmer. Her brain rapidly began to construct scenarios where a topless Ron kissed her passionately on the lips, next to a pond that was mercifully free of his redheaded siblings.

She really had completely lost her mind.

‘You’re… you’re being ridiculous, Ginny!’ Hermione exclaimed, striding off to the kitchen with her nose held high. ‘Don’t be so silly!’

However -as Mrs Weasley performed a drying charm on the soaked book- Hermione couldn’t help but feel her heart continue to pound as she remembered the way Ron had emerged from the pond. A shiver went up her spine.

Oh, god, what was happening to her?

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Eventually (after several hours of struggling to relax beside the pond with her book) the heat became too much, and Hermione reluctantly decided to go for a swim. That water looked so inviting that she couldn’t help herself. Ron Weasley’s presence be damned, she was going to cool off in the water.

Within the confines of the room she was sharing with Ginny, Hermione pulled on the swimming costume she had bought. It was only a simple dark blue, one-piece affair. Nothing fancy. Hermione didn’t feel she had much to offer in the way of physicality.

Emerging from the Burrow, Hermione walked through the garden towards the pond. She unwrapped her towel from around herself and placed it gently by the waters end.  

Ron -of course- didn’t notice. He was lying on the grass nearby, his arm over his eyes as he relaxed in the sun. Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about that; did she want him to look at her? And -if so- why? It wasn’t as if she wanted to see the disinterest on his face.

Sighing slightly to herself, Hermione dived.

The water was fresh and cool; a welcome relief from the heat. Diving under the surface, Hermione felt herself relax. Yes, it was likely that Ron would never see her in the same way she was beginning to see him. But -then again- she was a bookworm with bushy hair and a childlike body. Why would a handsome redheaded boy possibly see her in a way that wasn’t just platonic?

It was good that she was under water, because Hermione’s eyes felt distinctly wet at that moment in time.

Hermione broke the surface, and swept her hair away from her face.

That was when she noticed Ron was staring at her, his eyes wide and… were his ears turning red again?

Ginny tried not to giggle as Hermione pulled herself out of the water, and began drying her hair. Her enormous bushy hair was always tangled and messy from the water, but Hermione found it difficult to care.

She sat down on the grass next to Ron, who promptly did a double take and coughed loudly.

‘Ron? Are you okay?’

‘E-er…. y-yeah, fine!’ Ron stammered, not quite looking Hermione in the ear.

Ginny giggled from the other side of the pond.

Hermione tried not to smile, as she played with a blade of grass. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the blush slowly extending from Ron’s ears down his neck.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was beginning to notice different feelings, after all…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading, everyone! If you enjoyed it, please leave kudos and/or comments/reviews on the FFN and AO3 pages for this fic.  If you're enjoying the drabbles of this series so far, consider subscribing to the series so you can be notified immediately when it's updated.

[pigeoncentric]

i did an A:TLA rewatch and took notes because that’s just what i do, and here’s the notes if anyone wants to see my thoughts

i haven't watched atla since about a year before korra started airing, so like, around 2011. i should also mention that i never watched korra through to the end, but i guess i'll do that after this. if i feel like it. i do know that the biggest bottles were never popped

i have such a clear memory of the first episode. it must've been on nickelodeon pretty often, even though when it was airing, i only watched it occasionally. i remember they also aired the library episode super often.

aang's voice is so tiny and sweet

i gotta turn off my dumb adult brain and put my dumb kid brain back on so i can better appreciate the nickelodeonness of it all

sokka and zuko's first interaction.......

zuko's intimidating approach and then his tiny teen voice

SOKKA AND ZUKO'S SECOND INTERACTION............

zuko's like "i'm going home." with aang. he must be feeling an incredible mixture of feelings, thinking he has the avatar and can reclaim his Honor. but he also must be terrified to go back, and in disbelief... fortunately he's not going home like he said and there are even more confused feelings in between

i just remembered that iroh's voice actor dies between seasons :(

thinking a lot about dante basco... no thoughts in particular, just a lot of them... and how he shipped zutara lmao

"my troubles cannot be soaked away!"

hei bai looks like a ben 10

mounts list (added to as i progressed through the series): zuko's rhinos. earth armored ostriches. metal noshing mole. north pole goatyak. azula and friends' fur geckos. sabertooth moose lion if you're not a wimp. appa-sized beetle. moose with aquatic features. Eel Hound.

you can't out-mom-friend katara. even when she's yelling and being reckless

it's true... airbenders are weak to nets.

the n*tfli* captions are making several mistakes. eat my ass ne*f*ix and hire me to do flawless captioning instead you dumb fucks

YEAH! even by episode 13 in season 1 we already know zuko is a good boy! well also by episode 12. and earlier. well i've seen the series before.

i've just learned that zach tyler eisen is the voice of aang and i have to give him huge props for having the perfect voice. i pay a lot of attention to voice acting, usually in a nitpicky way, and i've never heard an english voice actor whose voice is perfect on the level of ikue ohtani... and when he was like 12 years old. incredible. i'm not being remotely sarcastic

i gotta be 100% honest. i had completely forgotten the existence of zhao and that he's actually a pretty important character, at least in season 1. also his voice actor is pretty good. generally the voice acting is good in this show, and i'm picky.

god the animation where aang makes one catapult catapult the other is so good. also appa just picked up and grabbed a guy. with his fist. wait how many toes does appa have? is that 18 in total? also appa has scutes on his ventrum. anyway i love that appa can pick up and grab a guy but generally chooses not to. gives it more weight when he does choose to

zuko tells turtle seals to be quiet and then touches them unkindly :(

zuko busted out of katara's ice orb instead of melting it :\

zuko put his hood up like iroh told him to but aang just has his naked bald head in the snowy cold :(

seeing zhao grab and bag the moon spirit fish made me feel sick. such a foul act

god. the quality rope. i noticed sokka mention it and was like, "was this a chekhov's gun or a red herring" and then a few minutes later there was a pointed pan over to the quality rope.

anyway examining the quality of the voice acting here leads me to a thesis i might gather evidence to prove: american english voice acting for cartoons is far higher quality than american english voice acting for anime dubs. or is that just something obvious that everyone already agrees on

anyway anyway, the episode ended without the quality rope being put to use. unless i missed it, which is entirely possible.

jesus i heard azula's first lines and got an instant flashback to all the tumblr drama about grey delisle and her tumblr account and how she pretended it wasn't hers or something let's just erase all of this from my brain right now

this is kind of out of nowhere and borderline inappropriate but i'm glad characters in avatar are illustrated with nipples when they're shirtless... it always disturbs me a tiny bit when shirtless characters are depicted with zero nipple, not even a hint of nipple. (Aladdin.) not just because it implicitly stigmatizes something everyone has, but also because this scenario always plays in my head where it's like, a little kid sees a cartoon character without nipples and they think, "so i'm not supposed to have these..." and they start feeling weird and bad about themself... all you need to depict a nipple is a single unobtrusive dot. nothing visually offensive or explicit about it.

even to an audience who doesn't understand any cultural context, you can't not see the significance of zuko and iroh cutting off their topknots...

fandom seems to see sokka as the silliest one when in fact at least 40% of his entire role as a character is to be the tsukkomi

underrated moment: "you've got an elbow leech." "WHERE?! WHERE?!"

zuko should be a good boy and only steal if it's from pirates

stealy zuko stealing money and buying iroh a teapot !

god i forgot what a tiny baby voice toph has... so tiny

zuko trying really really hard but doing a bad job hammering (tears)

azula set up zuko and mai for a lucky sukebe...

when zuko's mom told him not to forget who he is, she didn't mean to remember that he's a prince and an heir as he revealed to the unsuspecting earth kingdom village. she meant to remember that he's someone with at least the base level of empathy and compassion, unlike most of his immediate family...

i still think aang's voice actor did a great job but i bet it sucks to be a young boy doing an excellent young boy voice and then when you grow up a little and presumably experience some puberty you just Cannot do the young boy voice anymore. hopefully in most cases where that happens, it's at least not abrupt

placing a bet that the writer for episode s2:e10 (the library) is different than most of the other episodes. i don't like it very much, at least in the first several minutes. if it's a name i recognize from the credits of several other episodes, i might be a bit disappointed in them. seriously, there's one stinker after another. and with such a great concept of an episode...

i didn't recognize the name of the guy who wrote this episode so i thought i was right but no, he wrote a bunch of episodes. must have been off his game for this one... either that or i'm in a very unforgiving mood and don't realize it... also when i went on wikipedia to look at who wrote which atla episodes, i learned that the animation for the show was split between two animation studios, and they're both korean. ah, i guess that doesn't mean all the animation took place overseas, as DM movie has a headquarters in the US. according to wikipedia.

oh, they're BUZZards... i get it... i gotcha.

aang with a vengeance is both scary and sad to see. but he does understand that property damage is nothing compared to a life

people who love azula are the exact same as people who love vriska: [comment redacted]

they have american birds in the avatar world. i keep hearing an eastern wood-peewee going "pee-pee-uwee" in the background :3

the serpent's pass seems geologically implausible.

sokka should really get face paint all over his face when he kisses suki. or like, the cartoonish image of when someone is covered in lipstick lip smacks, but it should be suki's makeup color

appa's been through so much and now he has to meet a boarcupine?!?! fortunately he still knows how to pick up and grab... but still :(

he touched appa's scutes and read them like a palm...

longshot translated his meaningful stares into out-loud words for katara and friends

zuko forgot that azula always lies :(

zuko should know that being redeemed in his father's eyes is the opposite of what he wants...

i LOVE aang's passionate tsungi horn dance

there are spring peepers in the fire nation

god the dripping of the rotten clams is so excessive

you know how ultrasonic humidifiers can create water vapor without heating it into steam, by vibrating it super fast? let's try that with waterbending, it'll be cool

two different bad guys have been skipped across the water like a rock

i love the fake time lapse of cleaning the river... and it showed how with pollution in real life, stopping the source of the pollution is not enough. it needs to be removed as well

sokka deserves LOTS of credit just for being able to handle a boomerang.

GOD THE SLOW PAN OVER THE BEAUTIFUL SWORD (in 3:4)

sokka also deserves LOTS of credit for being able to admit he doesn't know everything.

i managed to forget that zuko turns his back on iroh, while remembering that at some point, iroh gets buff

the voice of sokka's master is the voice of the boulder. right? right? no? are you kidding me? i suck at this

seems like kissing azula would have immediate consequences, like something melting

zuko is poorly socialized

zuko still forgot that azula always lies. even when she's being somewhat humanized in an episode like this.

so avatar roku had earthly attachments he did not let go of, presumably. such as his wife. did he have unfettered access to the avatar state? that's what i would ask him during this expositionfest if i was aang.

so sozin could do heatbending... that's amazing. i think i missed that the first time around.

that's right, zuko came back and his hair is long enough, but he hasn't recreated his topknot.

hawky is the only atla animal that poops on camera.

if you're gonna bend sweat, you might as well bend spit, and it's a little easier to obtain

wait so... is combustion man also a heatbender? i'll have to look into it later. [looked into it later: the avatar wiki has termed it "combustionbending?" are you shitting me?]

ooh it's the bloodbending episode! i'm pumped.

someone made a post about how when they watched this show and they were a kid they were thinking about how the characters are hot, and now they're watching as an adult and the characters are all tiny children... that's how i've been feeling. also season 3 episode 8 aang's voice sounds a little bit pubertous.

anyway damn this bloodbending episode is outright traumatic. good shit

oh, now zuko's topknot is back.

appa's armor covers each individual toe <:3c

i seriously misremembered the course of zuko's character development. and the timeline of the invasion in general. but now i understand that zuko has to tell his dad to eat shit face to face.

watching zuko's "zuko here" practice speech hurts 100% as much as it did the first time i saw it. and when he's delivering it to the gaang it's impossible to watch. i didn't put my hands on my head-- they just went there unbidden.

i kinda can't help picturing dante basco's face every time i hear zuko talk. the whole time. it's sometimes not optimal to know the faces of voice actors. especially when you're like me and you're not good at pushing out unwanted mental images.

what the fuck, combustion man? he just loves assassination so much you can't take back any orders. also i can't help but imagine that if you put a slice across his third eye his combustion would be fully inhibited. well i guess that's not a problem anymore.

i like that the gaang are a variety of heights, and that they're all noticeably shorter than most of the adults they meet. it just makes it feel realistic

if it was a US max security prison and prisoners were escaping they'd probably just fucking murder them

i love how when mai starts up the gondola again and azula is like "what is she DOING!" and ty lee just makes an "iunno" noise

tfw your best friend abandons you because you wouldn't let her murder her own brother

chit seng didn't get to free his girlfriend and best buddy :(

funny how azula seems almost docile when she's getting everything she wants. typical narcissist. well ok not the least bit typical.

sokka ate the rose. i remembered this scene Too clearly. but i didn't remember that.

um... was that the full moon? when katara bloodbent that guy? i should've looked at the sky... i went back and looked and still didn't see if it was the full moon. maybe the wiki knows. i don't care enough to look it up properly.

i was wondering when the melon lord would show up

none of the teens understand the obvious solution of defeating the fire lord by beating him INTO SUBMISSION (or oblivion) instead of killing him. just like in every anime fight ever. it's over when you acknowledge you've lost or you can't fight anymore, not when you die. (for the #1 best example of ending a fight the right way, see the way luffy defeats crocodile.)

so i know aang's gonna defeat the fire lord by essentially hitting him with a forced purification beam to the face and make him realize the errors of his ways or something. the fun part is how we get there

bumi bending entire houses through the air

aw i forgot the turtle island didn't have a cute face.

jyong jyong firebent a jet platform to fly around on?!

i guess the firelord can fly around like bakugou katsuki

i forgot that aang took away his firebending... and sokka hops up to him like "well, look at you, buster"

i'm glad i decided to watch this again. even if i didn't do a great job paying attention tbh. well i did spend a bit of time carving a little wooden spoon while i was watching. anyway i was thinking i wouldn't move right on to korra but rather read some of the atla comics that i know exist but have never read whatsoever. i wonder if i can find them in some kind of library...

  i found the comics illegally on the internet and read a whole bunch (up until the end of the "zuko finds his mom" arc). i didn't write my thoughts down as i was reading, so i don't remember them. that's how my worthless brain works. i do remember that i found the comics satisfactory as an accurate extension of the show, and that i feel ambivalent about how azula is written/treated in the comics.

i don’t know if i feel like rewatching korra yet.

[moonlit-nightingale]

.:RP:. Bumbling Budding

Characters: Saranqerel Qalli (male Xaela), Khabataaq Buduga (male Xaela)

Rating: General.

Origin Date: 12 Jan 2019

Khabi arrives at Sari’s home to pick up him for their date at a customer’s Bonding ceremony. But...is something wrong? Khabi to the rescue!

(Sari in plain text, Khabi in italics!)

=====

A bonding tonight. This would be the first time Sari ever saw an Eorzean one. Even now with the Clan, most things were still in the Eastern sense. Not that there'd been any marriages he could think of lately... Dain and Kotori's was so quiet, he didn't even remember it.  Maybe he and Khabi would be the first.

Instant blush. NO SARI! You're thinking too far ahead! For now, immediate problems.

Like trying to figure out why nice light silvery colored hair /refused/ to dye! This should have been easier than when he'd last dyed his hair, back when it was still black. The color simply wouldn't stick! He'd gone through an entire bottle of the dark black dye already, the poor wash basin looking like someone spilt an inkwell down it. But all it had succeeded in doing was making the silver turn into a darker smoky grey!  Was this part of the curse? The fox wanted him to wear permanent reminders? It's why these red marks about his face still lingered, even after an embarrassing attempt to wear makeup over them once. It was the same thing. His curse would always be visible for others to see.

A sigh as the Qalli opened up another bottle. He wore lounge pants, towel about his shoulders, shirt hung up after his shower, door closed. Consideration for his guests.

It was a waiting that normally wouldn't have bothered Khabataaq, at least not as much as it was today. Sari had left the Carbuncle's Cup to take care of something, he'd said.

Just around the time that Khabataaq had finally begun to muster the courage to talk to the Qalli about Batuqai. Khabataaq hadn't argued then, relieved to have an excuse to stall, to avoid this conversation that was making him feel sick to his stomach just thinking about, even if it was just for an hour or two. But the waiting turned out to be so much worse. And... a much longer wait than he'd been expecting.

He found himself at Sari's door, torn between leaving and stepping inside. Sari had needed to take care of something. Khabataaq should leave him be. He shouldn't be pushy. But if he had to run through this conversation one more time in his head, if he had to play out his words and try to guess what Sari's responses would be, if he had to stand that for one more minute he was worried he might break.

So he opened the door before he could stop himself, stepping lightly into the Qalli's entryway. It was empty and quiet. Maybe Khal and Yesu were gone? Oh... maybe Sari wasn't here after all, but somewhere else? He tapped cautiously down the staircase, knocking on the wall as he neared the bottom floor. "...Sari?"

Downstairs, the small male raised his head, hair all over his face and in the basin as he was in the middle of attempt two. Now he knew why this wasn't so hard last time. He didn't have this much hair! The wavy mess fell almost to his hips nowadays if left loose and brushed. Had he taken that long that Khabi had come over? Oh what a mess.

"I'm down here!" he called. Oh yeah, Khaljar and Yesui had taken lil Tuya out for a walk. The family wasn't one to stay quiet and boarded up in a room. "Sorry, I'm having some...issues. But I'm alright!" Oh his hands, well, hand was likely to be stained after this as he combed the black dye in again. "Sorry to make you wait!" His dress clothes were still hanging off the back of the door.

...Issues? Scenarios ran through Khabataaq's mind as he tried to comprehend what that could possibly mean, some more terrifying than others. Sari was just getting ready, wasn't he? It hadn't taken Khabataaq long to get ready, dressed in his nice slacks, boots, and jacket. Maybe Sari was having issues with a tie, as well? Admittedly, Khabataaq had asked Michiko to tie it for him the day before, and he'd just slipped it on and tightened it up to fit this afternoon. Cheating, maybe, but Khabataaq needed all the help he could get.

What if the issues were something more severe? Some pain or struggle with his arm? Pain with his burns or eye? He crossed from the staircase to stand a few fulms from the bathroom door, but didn't stray further. "It's no trouble, we still have time." He thought. He was never good at judging time, to be honest. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine! Shoo!"

A black covered hand stuck out from the door which was cracked open.

"Nothing to worry about, promise! Play with Creamsicle for a bit. He's been in a mood today. I think it's because of all the people around!"

The hand retreated as Sari went to turn the water on and leaned over to try and wash the dye out for attempt number two. He wasn't a vain man by any means but he wasn't fond of the idea of going to such an important event with hilarity for hair! Maybe he had a hat somewhere.

The mechanical hand stuck out from the doorway to shoo him away, and Khabataaq relaxed a touch. Well, clearly the gesture was a sign that Sari was fine, right? Maybe Creamsicle would let him play with a toy this time, rather than just jump for his ankles.

...Wait. It was the other hand that was magitek, wasn't it?

"Sari?! Your hand...?!" Memories of waking up to find the other with white hair and marked eyes spurred him forward. More damage from the curse? Khabataaq's hand shot between the door and the frame to keep from being closed out, and before he could consider the consequences he threw the bathroom door open.

The outburst had Sari jumping into the air, water and dye going simply everywhere. Fortunately none on the well-dressed Khabataaq!

Hair was all in the Qalli's face, shoulders, and back as he'd jumped in surprise. That one eye wide. Fortunately the dye that HAD washed out so far was staying...kinda. Sorta. Into a dark blue.

"K-KHABI! What are you doing?!"

Khabataaq reeled in the doorway, thoughts flying back and forth between the instincts of 'retreat' and 'protect' so feverishly he almost made himself light headed.

"Y-your... hand?! Your skin is... and your... hair...." ...Hair? His hair was dark? An easy conclusion to come to, if the poor Xaela's mind wasn't thoroughly scrambled by this moment of confusion and panic. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be panicking over anymore.

"Th-that... curse, with the fox, and... white hair, and...." That look of horror in the other's blue eye was undeniable, wasn't it? Khabataaq slapped his free hand across his face to cover his eyes, but he refused to move, not until he knew something bad hadn't happened. "What's happening? Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine!" he repeated loudly again. The mess of hair was swept into one bundle over his shoulder, water and dye still dripping and it was an effort to keep the mess over the basin. "I...was trying to make my hair darker. And it's not going well." A sulk. "It was supposed to be a surprise." The sulking glare to his partner was a mix between puppy eyes and fatherly disappointment. "And you ruined it."

A surprise? That hand covering his eyes strayed down in confusion, but just a glimpse of the damp, shirtless Qalli snaps it back up to cover his vision with embarrassment.

Unfortunately, he didn't hide quick enough to be spared from those puppy dog eyes.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I just saw... the dye, and... suddenly worried it was maybe something to do with...." As the fear for Sari's safety settled the panic shifted into a different sort; horror, mostly, towards the scene he'd just caused, from his misunderstanding, from the embarrassment he'd just caused Sari. "I'm sorry!"

Khabataaq slammed the door shut, hiding his face against the hallway wall, arms wrapped around his head, already well along into a furious blush. But he hesitated for a moment, standing there with his face pressed against the wall, and when he spoke again his voice was small.

"...Do you need help?"

The sulking shifted more to amusement at the continued overreaction of the other ex-Buduga. He leaned down to continue washing the rest of the excess out since the poor water had been running all this time. A smile pulled at his lips as things calmed and he was able to look back at the very..confusing and quick series of events!

"Thank you for worry, Khabi. Really. But when I say things are alright, they are. I'm almost done anyway. " Most times. Fingers combed through the hair. Silver remained at the tips, stubborn, but the majority had at least accepted some of the darkening. He had a feeling not for long. It would be quite a bit of maintenance. Damn curse, making even simple aesthetic things like this difficult. The mess was washed down the sink and he grabbed an older towel to dry everything out. The door was opened as he ran the towel through his hair, peeking around for the other man.

Oh, what an amusing sight that was. But...that lil cruel streak that was in Sari was squirming. "You do know...that you can be in the washroom with me, aye? We are courting." Though it took effort not to turn red at that.

But Khabataaq was not going to emerge from his hiding place, nope. Not yet. He was far too mortified.

"N-n-not like that, though, not when I burst in without permission." The last few ilms of his tail flicked from side to side with distress. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just... I should have believed you. I shouldn't have panicked."

Always worrying about things not said, lies to keep him in the dark or to hold him at arms length. He needed to stop thinking that way. He knew he did. But it was so difficult.

That long tail flicked. His tease hadn't worked at all, had it? It was the only way he could think to lessen the anxiety and tension in moments like this. The dye-stained towel was rested back around his shoulders and he reached to gently touch Khabi's shoulder. "It's alright for you to worry and...to want to come and make sure I was alright. Thank you for that. And you know..."

Goodness, this could make it worse. "...some couples enjoy being burst in on like that."

Those words put Khabataaq at ease. He hadn't offended Sari, then. He hadn't annoyed him. Hesitantly, knowing full well that flush hadn't fully faded from his features, Khabataaq peeked out from behind his arm with one pale eye, reassured by that hand on his shoulder.

But it was a short lived calm.

"Wh...wuh-wait, is that what you... thought I was...?" Is that why he'd looked so startled?! Khabataaq whirled to face Sari, his voice coming out higher than he probably intended. "I-Is that why you were so surprised?! It was nothing like that, I pr-"

...Wait.

Sari certainly knew him well enough by know to know better, didn't he?

Khabataaq's lips pursed in what he meant to look like a stern expression, but comes across instead as a pout. "You're teasing me."

A grin was quick to spread across his face at that and Sari laughed, too late to cover his mouth and stifle it. "How could I help it? You looked mortified. I vanquished the evil hair dye on my own but I thank you for you assistance in the matter, Khabi."

Back and forth that serpentine tail went in his ever-amusement!

The blush returned but this time it wasn't crippling, accompanied this time with a reluctant laugh that ruined the illusion of his pout. Oh well. That was always a hard expression to hold, anyways.

Khabataaq's posture straightened a bit as his embarrassment faded, and he looked pointedly down at Sari's dyed hand. "I don't think you made it through the battle unscathed, though," he said, some shy, playful grin playing at his lips. "Or is that part of the look?"

A blink and he looked down. Sari sighed. "It took two bottles...of course there were losses in the battle. It matches my other one though, almost." He held up both hands, the black metal of the magitek and his black smeared flesh one and wiggled his fingers.

Khabataaq giggled at the gesture, the flustered flicking of his tail finally calming to a contented sway. "That's what I thought, at first! It had me fooled!" Another chuckle, then a bit of shyness leaked back into his smile. "Your hair, it looks... I like it." The tail picked up speed, bashful. "What made you decide to change it?" He remembered Sari considering the idea before, but it hadn't been brought up since.

Finally a deep blush at those words. "It'll look better when it dries...but um, you said you liked it darker so..."

A blink at that, and his eyebrows arch. "Because of something I said?" That had clearly not been the answer Khabataaq had been expecting, and it visibly caught him off guard. "You... you dyed it because I liked it?"

A shy nod and he looked up, tail curling a bit in anxiety. Not a bad kind, not at all. In fact, it was one he wasn't used to feeling. "L-like I said, it'll look better when it dries. And I couldn't get it black like you said you liked. The curse won't let me. This is as close as I could get it." He was rambling, wasn't he? "Two bottles of the darkest that I could find in the market stalls. And you're only supposed to use half normally so technically I did four treatments and it's still like this."

Another blink. That much thought, that much planning and work, just for something he'd mentioned liking in passing?

He wasn't sure if anyone had ever done anything like that for him before.

Khabataaq's face broke out into a smile, confusion lightening from his features. "That's alright...! I love it!" The smile turns into a beam. "I liked your hair no matter the color, it's just when it's darker... it reminds me of when I met you." A slight blush dusted his cheeks. "I'm sorry it turned out to be so much trouble."

Hearing the praise on something that was so superficial was something he wasn't used to. It was silly. But this was sincere praise on his appearance. Not taunting, not empty flirts to win him over, it felt different and it warmed him. Sari didn't spend a terrible amount of time on appearances and looks. And perhaps some of that was due to his past. He'd wanted not to be noticed, to fade into the masses and not be seen or be targeted.

Now...he kind of wanted to.

The praise made his tail uncurl and swish back and forth a bit. "...no sorry. I'm just happy that you like it." Sari went to his tiptoes and stole a quick smooch on the lips.

Something that was so simple and mundane to most, maybe, but made Khabataaq almost giddy, tail sweeping behind him. "I do, very much." For multiple reasons; he liked the look, he liked what the gesture meant. But there was hesitance to voice them, as if speaking would lessen their importance.

He arched a brow in a  playful, questioning scowl, but the effect was ruined by that permanent smile. "But... if you still need to get dressed, and dry your hair... are you sure you'll be ready in time?"

A look to the chronometer on the wall. "Oh, I'll have time! Have a snack or drink, I need to finish up!" And skitter Sari did back into the washroom. He had a few tricks to dry his hair quick but he still wanted to pay attention to detail for the respect of the couple being bonded!

Khabataaq copied the glance towards the chronometer, but it was mostly just for show. He still hadn't quite figured out how to read those things, not without a shameful amount of effort. He turned back just in time to see Sari whirl to dart back into the washroom, that now-dark hair sweeping behind him, and an impulse found him. An impulse he decided to let run wild without second guessing, this time.

His hand lurched out again to catch the door. But this time, he would quickly return Sari's earlier kiss should the Qalli turn to look at him, a kiss that came across far bolder than he intended, thanks to his haste. An embarrassed grin then, before stammering through the words, "A snack, and play with Creamsicle, right? I can do that." Then he would sweep the door partially closed again for Sari's privacy before hurrying upstairs.

Indeed the motion had Sari look back in confusion only to be met with the kiss that nearly bowled the smaller man over! Oh my. Before he could really register what happened, Khabi was gone. ...oh, sneaky man! He'd get him back. Bright red, he went to continue getting ready.

[favficarchives]

Put on some socks

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x American!Reader Summary: You’re a member of the Cupler Ring and you’re working with Galahad on a mutual assignment. Overbooked hotels lead to everyone’s favorite scenario: bed sharing. Genre: Smut, apparently. Fluff, too. Still not sure how the smut happened, though… Warnings: It’s smut, what do you expect? Things get a little rough (hair pulling, light spanking, etc.), but nothing major. Word count: 3,910

[Masterlist]

A/N: Tumblr flipped and screwed the original post up, so let’s try this again...

“Put on some socks, dammit,” your partner, Eggsy, grunted as he ran a hotel towel over his wet hair. “I don’t wanna deal with your ice feet tonight.”

You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head and looking back down at the tablet resting in your lap. You and Eggsy – or Galahad, as the Kingsmen called him – teamed on this assignment a few weeks back when your paths crossed and you realized you were working the same case. While your team – the “petticoated patriots,” as the larger organization playfully called you – was weary of working with “the red coats,” you happily accepted the help. A fresh set of eyes wouldn’t hurt, and neither would establishing connections and a working relationship with your buddies across the pond.

Additionally, Eggsy was a cute, funny guy. In your line of work, the only guys you ever met were fellow Cuplers (and you weren’t really a fan of dating within the workplace) or bad guys that you had to take down. Hanging out with a cute guy who wasn’t a coworker or criminal was a nice change of pace.

“You’re the one who got all cuddly last night,” you reminded him, your memory flashing back to your new partner holding you close to his shirtless chest throughout the night. “You’re like a fucking furnace, by the way. I actually thought I was going to get heat stroke at one point.”

Eggsy responded by pitching his damp towel at your head, which you promptly tossed to the floor.

“Seriously, my guy,” you continued with a teasing smile. “I woke up like five times last night and you were wrapped around me like a baby koala.”

Eggsy smiled and hopped onto the bed, blue eyes trained on you.

“People love baby koalas,” he told you with a smirk.

You laughed. “Oh, do they?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, crawling closer to where you sat at the head of the bed. “’sides, love, you’re the one that picked the room. All a ploy to get me into bed, yeah?”

You scoffed, your face heating up at the insinuation. That may not have been your original intention, but it wasn’t as much of burden as you pretended.

“Definitely,” you said. “It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that I booked the room last minute and a single was all they had left.”

“Coulda had the penthouse,” he pointed out, rolling over and leaning against the headboard.

“I see ‘discretion’ isn’t in the Kingsmen handbook,” you said with an eyeroll.

Eggsy shifted in the bed, folding his hands behind his head and glancing down at your lap.

“It is,” he argued, smirk still firmly in place. “It’s just not as important as style.”

“Figures,” you laughed.

He groaned in response, reaching across you and turning off the bedside lamp before inching under the covers.

“Whatever ya say, Yank. Put your socks on and turn in.”

-0-

“Hey Eggsy?” you whispered into the darkness, figuring he was still awake due to the lack of limps tangled around you.

“Yeah, love?” his groggy voice answered.

“Why’s your name ‘Eggsy’?”

A warm thrill rushed through your body at the sound of his deep, tired chuckle.

“I mean, did your parents just really like eggs or something?”

“My parents named me Gary,” he said. “My friends named me Eggsy.”

You paused, considering his words with more thought than they were really worth.

“Okay,” you said after a few moments, “but my ‘why’ is still valid.”

You heard him sigh with defeat and shift onto his side.

“I hate eggs,” he admitted, “and my friends are wankers.”

You giggled at his response as you snuggled deeper into the mattress.

“Sounds about right,” you whispered, closing your eyes again and waiting for sleep to overtake you both.

-0-

You woke up a couple of hours later. The hotel room was still dark – illuminated only by the street lights shining through the curtain - and Eggsy was dead to the world next to you. Or rather, right up against you.

You felt his warm breath on your neck, perfectly in time with the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. One of his arms held you close, and both of his legs were intertwined with your own. And another… um… firm appendage… was pressed into your thigh.

Oh yeah, he was gone.

And you were sweating.

Sighing, you tried scooting away from him, only to have his grip on you tighten. This was when you gave up each time last night. Tonight, though, you weren’t going down without a fight.

You kept at it, trying to untangled your legs and gain some distance without waking the poor guy up. You continue to squirm, gently fighting against his vice-like grip, when a soft moan and a thrust of Eggsy’s hips stopped you cold in your tracks.

Well.

Well, there’s that.

You stayed still for a few moments, waiting for the tension to die down before trying to return to your original position. Your efforts at discretion were fruitless, though. The moment you moved again, Eggsy began lightly squirming against you, still sound asleep but seemingly desperate for some kind of friction.

You tried to ignore the shiver down your spine or the warmth between your thighs. You knew it was wrong. He was unconscious and unaware of what he was doing. You shouldn’t be deriving pleasure from it. In fact, you wanted to stop it, but you didn’t want to wake him up and embarrass him. Maybe you could rouse him just enough to make him stop without actually waking him up…

He shifted again and his cock, all but unrestrained in the loose pajama bottoms he wore, rested right below the curve of your ass.

Fuck, it was worth a shot.

“Eggsy,” you whispered, your voice cracking halfway through his name. Your thighs clenched as his hard-on twitched against your ass.

Eggsy moaned into your neck and pulled you closer, his hard nipples (almost as hard your own) pressing into your back and his strong arm flexing against your stomach.

“Egg-sy,” you tried again, the delicate command in your voice giving way to mindless pleasure. It had been so long since you had been with someone, and Eggsy was so wonderful, and he seemed to want you, too. Would it really be so bad if you two-

Yes, the still-clear headed sided of you said. Yes, it would be. You’re on assignment. Now stop it.

“Y/N,” Eggsy moaned into your neck.

Oh fuck.

You gasped in response, and Eggsy’s movements against you became more calculated and precise. He buried his face into your neck and ground his pelvis into your ass with damn-near perfect rhythm. He was awake. And he wasn’t at all embarrassed.

“Y/N, love,” he started, his voice gruff and exhilarating as his hand slowly moved under your shirt and to the middle of your stomach, “tell me to stop.”

You should. You absolutely should. Eggsy was a gentleman through and through. No matter how much he apparently wanted you, he’d stop in an instant if you told him. He’d stop, apologize, and you could both carry on with the assignment like nothing happened. You absolutely should tell him to stop.

“Don’t stop,” you whined, wiggling your ass against his crotch.

Well. That didn’t go according to plan.

Thrill coursed through your veins when you heard Eggsy growl. His hand began an immediate path south, tucking below the hemline of your bottoms. You inhaled sharply as his fingertips danced along your inner thighs, deliciously close to where you needed him most and too far away altogether.

“Eggsy,” you begged, your voice breaking again as his thrusting hips and light fingers continued to tease you. Your panties were soaked, and you were sure he could tell when he brushed the tips of his fingers over your clothed core. “Eggsy, please.”

You felt him smile against your neck, and tears began pricking your eyes. Eggsy tucked his free arm under you, wrapping it around your waist and drawing little patterns on your stomach with his free hand. Before long, he was brushing over your tight, hard nipples with his feather-like touch while his soft, wet lips kissed trails along you neck and jaw, stopping every so often to nibble you ear lob and whisper sweet nothings to you.

The sensation overload was driving you insane. You were so turned on you could die, and all you could do was lie there as Eggsy kept his teasing, leisurely pace.

“Eggsy,” you began again, gasping sharply as his teeth clamped down on your neck, eyes all but rolling in the back of your head as another shock of arousal shot through your body and settled between your thighs. Your moan tore through the room as Eggsy fingers slid under your panties and brushed against your soft folds, your cunt’s walls squeezing against themselves, craving any kind of pressure available.

“Eggsy,” you moaned deeply. “I -oh god, Eggsy- I-I’m cl-ose.”

“Already, love?” Eggsy teased, the smile evident in his voice. “But we’re just getting started.”

You all-but-screamed as he slid a finger into you, working your tight walls and pushing you to your brink as the heel of his hand pressed against your clit and his clothed cock kept teasing your backside.

You bit your lip to keep back your painfully desperate cries as Eggsy kept working you, tears of frustrated pleasure streaming down your face.

Fuck, it had been so long. And fuck, it felt so good. So, so good.

“Eggsy,” you moaned, “f-uck me… so… goo- agh!”

Eggsy slid another finger into your wet heat, your walls pulsating around them, desperate for purchase. Semi-coherent moans turned into frantic pleas for release, Eggsy’s skilled fingers bringing you right to the edge. Your vision starting giving out as he curled his fingers, so close to just the right spot you swore you weren’t going to live to see the sunrise.

“Come on, love,” he whispered into your ear, thumb brushing over your clit. “You gonna cum for me, love? Cum all over my hand?”

F-uck, you wanted to.

“Almost there, love?” he teased, fingers just missing where you needed them.

So. Close.

“Almost…” he said again, voice sweet like honey as he moved his fingers just a little more, “there?”

You screamed in ecstasy as his fingers hit just the right spot, your body convulsing tightly as your orgasm washed over you. Eggsy held you close to him, hips rocking yours as he helped you ride out wave after wave, his name a prayer on your lips as you began to come down. You kept rocking in time with him, walls still pulsing around his fingers. Your thighs were coated in your own slick, as was part of Eggsy’s pajama bottoms. You wanted to feel bad, but at this point you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret anything that might get the man out of his pants.  

“Good girl,” he whispered softly as your thighs finally fell open, allowing him to reclaim the hand that you so eagerly came against. “Feel a bit better now, yeah?”

You shivered at his praise and his caring tone, nodding gently as you focused on the feeling of him beside you, grounding you in reality. You felt him rise into a seated position and glanced behind you, biting back a moan was you watched him lick the remnants of you off of his fingers. His eyes caught your own, and you watched the corner of his mouth pull back into a smirk as his leisurely drew his fingers from his mouth with a soft ‘pop’.

You trembled in delight.

Eggsy rose to his knees and turned to face you, grabbing your hips and moving you to the center of the bed, stripping you naked once he had you where he wanted you.

“Stay right here, love,” he commanded gently, kissing your temple before rolling off the bed. You kept your eyes trained on him, watching closely as he turned on the table lamp and shucked off his bottoms, finally freeing his… big… hard… throbbing cock.

This time, you couldn’t swallow your moan.

The sound drew Eggsy’s attention back to you, and he was filled with pride at the blatant, burning need on your face as you looked as his cock. He was so enraptured by your expression – just fucked and still craving more – that he almost missed your thighs clenching and your hips gyrating into the mattress.

Fuck, you were gonna kill him.

But what a way to go.

He grabbed his wallet off of the bedside table and dug through it, pulling out the one condom he had on him. In any other scenario, he’d probably have an extra in a pocket somewhere, but he wasn’t exactly anticipating needing any on this assignment. All that meant was that he was gonna have to make this one count.

He looked back at you and smiled. He wasn’t thrilled when he found out an American spy organization was working the same case as him, and he was downright pissed when Merlin said he was gonna team up with the bird he’d met in the field, but damn if it didn’t turn out so much better than expected.

He owed Merlin big for this.

Eggsy crawled back on the bed, knees on either side of your hips, and braced himself on one hand as he hovered over you.

“Take this, love,” he said, placing the packaged condom in your hand, “and keep a close eye on it. ‘S all we got tonight.”

You nodded, your eyes still a little glassy from your earlier orgasm. Eggsy smiled down at you and pecked you on the lips, pausing in mild surprise at the whine that left you lips as he moved away.

“What’s wrong, love?” he teased with a smile as he took in your pouting expression. “Want more kisses?”

You glared up at him in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. You didn’t know if he was a “kissing” guy, so you didn’t want him to know that you were a “kissing” girl. Some things were private.

Eggsy leaned down closer to you, propping himself on his forearms and hovering just a few inches from your face.

“I can do kissing,” he told you before bringing his soft, sweet lips back to yours.

Who really needs privacy, anyway?

You happily leaned into the kiss, snaking your arms around his neck and holding him close to you. The kiss deepened as he shifted on top of you, lowering his legs and bringing his body flush with yours. His cock throbbed against your belly, precum leaking out of the tip. You groaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around him, gently thrusting your hips into his.

Eggsy moaned in response and met your thrusting, grinding your hips into the mattress. The two of you continued on like that for only God knows how long – tenderly kissing and simultaneously fighting for dominance, Eggsy precum leaking onto your stomach as you own juices ran down the curve of your ass and began to pool on the sheets beneath you. The feeling was driving you crazy, and knowing that his cock was right there wasn’t helping. Still, you didn’t want this to end so soon. And it would end soon. Eggsy was just as desperate as you were, and you already had one orgasm under your belt tonight. The poor guy must be going out of his mind.

You tore your lips away from his.

“Eggsy,” you whispered, “fuck me. Please. Fuck me.”

“You sure, love?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please Eggsy. I want your cock.”

Eggsy growled in response and snatched the condom from you hand. You felt his cock twitching in anticipation as he tore open the packaging and you couldn’t blame the poor thing. You had just cum a few minutes ago and your cunt was already soaking and more than ready to go again.

You let Eggsy take full control and he rose back to his knees and grabbed your hips, pulling them to meet his and bringing your leg flat against his torso while hooking the other one around his waist. Eggsy positioned his cock at you entrance and slowly pushed in, eyes rolling back in his head as he entered you warm, pulsing cunt. His body tensed as he fought off his own aching release, just as you fought off yours. It felt so damn good, the feeling of him sliding into you, filling you up and stretching you out. But if you came now, it’d be over, and neither of you wanted that.

You were both still for a moment, focusing on your breathing and on very distinctly not cumming, when Eggsy suddenly growled, bit his lip, and starting pounding into you. You tried your best to meet his thrusts, even with your odd position, but soon he was going too fast for you to do anything but hang on and enjoy the ride.

The room was filled with sounds of sex. Skin slapping against skin, groans, grunts, and moans, the headboard beating against the wall and Eggsy’s movements became quicker and more powerful. But you couldn’t hear any of it. The only thing you could focus on was how good Eggsy felt inside of you, how amazingly he stretched you out, how electric you felt, and how close you were to cumming. It was right there, so close, but something wasn’t right. Something needed to change for you to get there – and dammit, you wanted to get there – but you were being fucked too senseless to figure it out.

Luckily, Eggsy was on the same page as you. He briefly pulled completely out of you before readjusting his hold on your hips and looking down at you.

“Turn over,” he said, breathless.

You followed his demand and flipped over, bracing yourself on your hands and knees. Eggsy repositioned himself behind you and gripped your thighs, spreading your legs a little further apart. You felt the swollen head of his cock tease you entrance as he realigned himself before slammed back into you.

You cried out in pleasure as he immediately began his merciless pace once more. Your cries became louder as he brought down an open palm on the bare cheek of your ass, rushes of further arousal accompanying the sting of the pain. You set a hand on the headboard to try to stabilize yourself as he continued to pound into you. His name became your mantra as you begged him for more, to go harder, to go faster.

Eggsy reached down and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking back and sending you flying over the edge into your second orgasm of the night. Your own cries were so loud you barely heard Eggsy’s pleasured moan as he stilled behind you, emptying himself into the condom as your cunt milked him for all he was worth.

Reality slowly began to take hold again as you came down from your high, body still twitching with aftershocks. You bit down on your lip and fell to your forearms as you felt Eggsy still rutting into you, his cock just as hard as before and his grip tighter on your hips. You smiled devilishly at his desperation and ground back against him, humming in delight at the strangled cry that left his mouth. You took control as Eggsy lost his, clenching your walls around him as you went, and milking three more mini-orgasms from his over-sensitive cock.

“Oh g-od!” Eggsy called in a ragged voice as the final orgasm took him over, his thighs shaking and face red with exertion. You smiled proudly to yourself, carefully sliding him out of you and rolling on you back. You giggled to yourself as you looked up at Eggsy, fucked out of his mind with a dopey smile on his face.

Good to know you still had it in you.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” he mumbled, eyes finally meeting your own. “That was fucking mental.”

You giggled again.

“I’m inclined to agree,” you said plainly.

“Oh, are you?” Eggsy retorted, shooting you a cheeky grin as he rolled the condom off of his softening member, tying it off and throwing it in the trash can before collapsing face-first next to you on the bed.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he muttered in the mattress.

You laughed. “Well, I can feel too much of my ass.”

Eggsy turned his head to the side and peaked up at you, grin still firmly in place.

“You seemed to enjoy it from where I was kneeling, love.”

You laughed again, using the momentary distraction to hoist yourself up off the bed so you could start painfully waddling to the bathroom and handle your pre-requisite post-coital business.

Once you were done washing up, you returned to the bed to find Eggsy passed out in a blissful sleep, still buck naked, without a care in the world. You smiled to yourself as you walk back to the bathroom, dampening a washrag and bringing it back out to the bed with you. Eggsy began stirring as you cleaned him up.

“Whatchya doin’ down there, love?” He asked a tired grin.

“Cleaning you up,” you answered simply. You had to clean up after sex if you wanted to avoid bacterial infections and next morning unpleasantness. Eggsy couldn’t do it himself, so you did it for him. Plain and simple.

“Yeah?” he asked, propping himself on his elbows to get a better look at you. “Can’t say anyone’s ever done that before.”

His admission startled you.

“Well,” you said as you walked back to the bathroom and tossed the rag in the sink, “you’ve had some pretty shitty partners.”

“And one great one,” he told, dazzling you with his brilliant smile. “We should partner up again some time, you and me.”

You nodded as you crawled back onto the bed and turned off the bedside lamp. “Yeah, I’m sure the Cuplers and Kingsmen could have a great relationship.”

Eggsy laughed at your diversion, turning onto his side to face you in the darkness of the room.

“And what about Eggsy and Y/N, huh?” He asked lightly, eyes trained on you in the low light, carefully watching for your reaction.

You smiled, rolling your eyes and thanking yourself for turning out the light so he couldn’t see the full extent of your embarrassment. You were more than eager to some kind of relationship with the cute, funny, fucks-you-stupid British spy, but you didn’t need him to know that. Eggsy was already one cocky son of a bitch, and after all the frenzied pleas he’d pulled from you tonight, you were sure is ego was at maximum capacity. You didn’t need to add to it any more than you already have.

“I think Eggsy and Y/N might be able to work something out,” you responded coyly. Though, judging by his chuckle, Eggsy saw right through that.

Damn.

“Glad to hear it,” he said quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist and snuggling up next to you.

“Oh, and Eggsy?”

“Hmm?”

“Put on some socks,” you told him. “I don’t wanna deal with your ice feet tonight.”

You shrieked in delight as Eggsy swatted your bottom, chuckling lowly into the crook of your neck before kissing you goodnight.

Oh yeah, you two could definitely work something out.

A/N: Let’s hope this one posts right. This site is a hellhole

[jaeminlore]

Sing For You // Hong Jisoo

-

the prompts: (1) whenever I think of joshua i get this “boy next door” feel. but maybe have it where joshua or the reader has just moved to the neighborhood and the reader hears joshua play the guitar near his bedroom window and he starts to notice her and play songs that convey his feelings for her. (2) personally i would love a joshua scenario with a flirty josh and oblivious reader cuz!!!! why not!!!

words: 3834

category: fluff

author note: he’s not that flirty in this like maybe a subtle flirt. anyway this is for my older sister, for her graduation gift. I’m proud of you, you loser, and I hope you like this scenario. (good luck choosing between joshua and yuta now muahaha)

- destinee

-

When you and your family moved into that ugly green two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac, you assumed there would be no one your age to hang out with. It was the summer after you graduated high school, and you were pleased to spend it leisurely, doing nothing but catching up on the latest Netflix series available. You would start working as soon as the summer was over, and so your goal was to spend as much time as you could enjoying being lazy.

The bedroom you chose was at the end of the hall on the second floor, far away from your parents’ room. There, you could watch Netflix on your laptop day after day, without a care in the world at who was outside (or inside) of your house.

Your mother was sociable, and always on the prowl for new friends she could chat with. That’s how she found Mrs. Hong, who conveniently lived next door along with her son, Joshua.

To say Joshua Hong was cute would have to be the understatement of the century, since he was downright princely in every sense of the word. Luckily, his bedroom seemed to be right across the yard from yours, so you were able to see him from time to time whenever he opened his curtains. He never seemed to notice you when he sat on his window seat to play his guitar. Sometimes, he would crack open his window and you could hear the experimental twang of the strings as he learned new melodies and songs. That wasn’t very often, though.

Usually, Joshua had friends over, and they would play in the in-ground pool in his backyard. You found out he had handsome friends too, and lots of them. Sometimes they picked him up in a beaten up old van. It obviously didn’t fit thirteen boys, so you always watched in amusement as Joshua would squish into the trunk with a few other boys. They were a wild bunch, and loud. They were the soul reason you bought noise-canceling headphones.

Some days, when you didn’t feel like Netflix or the internet, you would watch Joshua and his friends hang out, since it was rather comical to see them playing around. Especially when they had sleepovers at Joshua’s place. Apparently they were fans of truth or dare, unless Joshua really did have a boyfriend named Yoon Jeonghan, as he had shouted out for the neighborhood to hear one night. That was the first time you ever heard him speak, funnily enough. His voice was soft.

Soon, Netflix became boring to you as July found it’s way into the year. You found yourself at your window seat more often than not, watching Joshua as he fiddled with his guitar. He was quieter alone, away from the the hustle and bustle that his friends offered. With his and your windows cracked open, you could hear his gentle voice as he sang a familiar song. Without realizing it, your eyelids began to droop as you leaned against the window pane. Joshua’s soft voice sang you to sleep that night.

-

“She is the sweetest thing that I know…“ Joshua sang, ”you should see the way she holds me when the lights go low. Shakes my soul like a pot hole, every—dang it!”

He exhaled in frustration as he once again messed up the simplest of chords. Where there was a D, he had played a C. He had never messed up something like guitar chords. He could play a song by ear if he wanted to, as he had been playing since he was in middle school.

He blamed you. Ever since you had moved in a few months ago and he saw you going out to collect mail, his mind hadn’t been the same. He found it cute how you would give the mailman a wide smile whenever he brought a package for you. Often times he didn’t even have to wonder very long what it was that you were so happy to receive, as you would open the package right there in the front yard. He got to see your interests, which mostly consisted of miscellaneous fandom merch or something even stranger like a box of food from who knows where. Although once, you received a tin of cookies and Joshua had considered introducing himself right there just to take a few of those chocolate chip treats home with him.

The point was, Joshua found you rather interesting and pretty, but he was too shy to actually strike up a conversation with you. His mother told him a lot about you, because according to your mother you were always watching Netflix shows or making strange conditions in the kitchen.

Joshua had the developing desire to keep learning about you. He wanted to know more about you, outside of your mother’s opinions and his observant assumptions. However, he wasn’t very outspoken when it came to girls. In fact, he barely even talked to them in high school. Even now, in college as a struggling music major, he didn’t really talk to girls. He was too shy and uninterested. He had his entire life to find someone that made his heart race. For now, he just wanted to hang out with his friends. Your moving right across from him sort of wrecked that plan, however, as now he found his heart racing every time he saw you outside.

As he repositioned his fingers to play the song again, he glanced out the window, towards your house. His curiosity for you was quenched when he realized your window was right across from him, and you were sleeping against the partly-open windowpane. He quirked a smile at your sleeping form.

Had you heard him singing? The thought flustered him, as he wasn’t sure he sounded good. Sometimes he just fooled around on his instrument, and it probably sounded stupid. He wondered how many times you had heard him singing his heart out to Ed Sheeran songs. Then, he cringed as he remembered his favorite activity to do when he felt bored was to freestyle his own raps for whatever reason. Perhaps you would find them funny. That would be a plus, right?

Whatever you had heard, Joshua was going to make sure you heard only the best songs from him. From then on, he kept a mental note that you could be listening to his songs.

-

You were awoken bright and early the next morning, to the usual legion of boys shouting and yelling.

Did they not know it was morning?

Splashing was quickly heard along with loud voices, so you sat up begrudgingly and looked at your phone. You groaned, Who went swimming at the crack of dawn, anyway?

They were disrupting your precious sleep, and so it was only logical that you would disrupt their precious fun. As desperate times call for desperate measures, you got out of your bed and grabbed the Nerf gun that lay in the messy underside of your bed. After finding a spare dart laying around, you crept over to your window seat and hid behind the decorative throw pillows you had set on the cushions. You pushed open your window and aimed for the first boy you saw near the pool: a tall, dark boy busy slathering sunscreen on his shoulders. You pulled the trigger and grinned as your target met it’s mark.

“Ow! Wh—” he turned around quickly, and locked eyes with you.

You squealed in alarm and ducked behind your cushions.

“Joshua! Your neighbor just shot me with a Nerf gun!”

“Really?“

You peaked your head over your throw pillow and watched as Joshua pushed himself out of his pool and walked closer to your house, his brows furrowed as he looked at your window. Then, he opened his mouth without a sort of Aha! expression. “It’s really early. My mom told me her parents were on a trip so I just assumed she was with them. We should keep quiet.”

You sighed in relief as all the boys seemingly agreed and got out to get some sun instead.

If you were honest, you might have watched the shirtless boys tan for just a bit longer before returning to your bed.

-

”Cause I know that I let you down, but is it to late to say I’m sorry now?“ Joshua strummed his guitar rather recklessly to the Justin Bieber song.

His thoughts were that if he couldn’t speak to you, then he could very well sing to you. At least from his bedroom. He still felt guilty for waking you up on a Saturday at six in the morning. So he thought of the only semi-apologetic song he knew the chords to. If that was Justin Bieber, it would have to do.

He could see you even now, with your head against the windowpane, listening to him. You seemed to be listening casually as you scrolled on your phone, occasionally stopping to double-tap. When he stopped singing and playing, he chuckled softly because you had peeked up and looked over to his window, wondering why his voice had cut off abruptly. He quickly put his head down and waited until you went back to your phone before he looked at you again.

Was there a sort of unspoken communication between you two? He would sing and you would just listen along?

Joshua bit his lip in thought as he mindlessly strummed random chords. Maybe he could sing for you every night.

Before he could begin another song, his mother called him to help her make dinner.

“Coming!”

He went downstairs into the kitchen, where his mother was busy tossing a salad. “Can you cook and cut the chicken for me?”

“Of course,” Joshua said, moving over to the fridge to grab the chicken.

“What happened this morning?” Mrs. Hong asked as they both worked together. “I was drinking my morning coffee, listening to you guys play in the pool and then all of a sudden all the noise just stopped.”

“Oh, well apparently Y/n didn’t go with her parents on that trip, and we woke her up. She shot Mingyu with a Nerf gun to let us know that we were being too loud.”

Mrs. Hong giggled and shook her head fondly. “Maybe you should invite her over. She might be lonely during dinner.”

Joshua groaned and turned to narrow his eyes at his mother, “Are you trying to set me up?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Mrs. Hong shrugged her shoulders coyly, “but it would be nice for her to come over and you two to meet properly.”

“I don’t know…” Joshua mumbled, his ears turning pink at the thought that his mom might embarrass him before he got to even properly talk with you.

Mrs. Hong rolled her eyes. “I won’t bring out the baby pictures, just go and invite her over before she starts microwaving pizza pockets or something.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Joshua sighed, making his way out the back door.

The walk from his house to yours felt rather slow for him. Especially since his legs seemed like lead, and his feet were dragging with anxiety as he thought of seeing you face to face.

He stood in front of your pea-green home and lifted his fist, knocking on the creaky screen door.

He heard quick footsteps from inside, and then the door was swung open. It was you, with a bright smile on your face until you saw him. Your smile quickly turned down in disappointment. “Oh. I thought you were the delivery man with my clothes.”

Joshua scratched the back of his head, “Ah… Sorry. I’m Joshua Hong from next door.”

“I know who you are,” you said sweetly. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Yeah. Um, my mom wanted to know if you wanted to eat dinner with us? Since your parents are out and everything.”

“Oh!” You looked genuinely surprised. “I’m sorry, but I’m going out on a date with this guy from the mall. I don’t have his number to cancel or anything.”

“Don’t cancel!” Joshua said hastily, ignoring the frantic and nervous beating of his heart as he thought of you going on a date with someone else. “If you’re going on a date then go! Have fun,” he laughed awkwardly and turned on his heel, marching down the stairs towards his home.

He walked into the kitchen, his stomach turning as he saw his mother’s hopefully face. “Is she coming?”

“No,” Joshua sighed, going to take the chicken out of the oven. “She has a date.”

The two of them agreed not to talk about you any longer, as Mrs. Hong could sense the melancholic tone in her son’s voice. He was a bit hurt, but he wouldn’t mention it as he sat down to eat with his mother.

The two of them sat down and prayed before digging into their light dinner, easy conversation distracting Joshua from his worry about where you might be going and what you might be doing on your date.

The loud honking of a car suddenly jolted the two. Poor Joshua had been drinking water as it happened, and so he accidentally spilt some of it down his thin t-shirt.

“Go see what that is,” Mrs. Hong told him, her eyebrows furrowed in worry that there might’ve been an accident in their neighborhood.

Joshua obeyed and walked over to the window over the sink, dabbing his shirt with a paper towel as he did so. He peered out the window to see a sleek black car in your yard, honking. Suddenly your door opened and you came outside, your hair flying behind you as you ran over to the car.

“It’s her date,” Joshua informed his mom, “He didn’t even ring the doorbell.”

Mrs. Hong rushed over and tutted, shaking her head. “Where’d she pick him up?”

“The mall,” Joshua said spitefully. “What guy picks up girls at the mall anyway?”

Mrs. Hong patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go call it a night?”

“M'kay,” Joshua said softly. “Thanks Mom.”

-

You returned home later and tossed your bag onto your bed. You plopped into your window seat and sighed. Your date had been a jerk, and after flirting with the waitress, he had made you pay for the entire meal (which wasn’t any MacDonald’s by the way). After that, he tried to initiate a make out session in the front seat of his car, to which you politely declined.

You opened your window slightly, hoping to hear some of Joshua’s singing. You wished you had just stood the jerk up and stayed with Joshua and his mom. You were sure that dinner would’ve reaped more benefits than the one you had been on.

You heard the sweet melodies of a Shawn Mendes song, followed by Joshua’s soft voice. ”‘Cause I know I can treat you better than he can, and any girl like you deserves a gentleman…“

You suddenly looked up and met Joshua’s gaze for a second before he finally looked away, still singing.

Had he played that song for you? Did he know that it was a botched date or was the song just a coincidence?

Either way, you grabbed a blanket and curled up in your window seat, letting Joshua’s voice lull you to sleep.

-

The next few weeks were rather quiet, save for Joshua’s nightly songs. Each night was a different love song, and you liked to listen to them as you feel asleep, imagining he was singing to you. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t ever talked, but the words were nothing more than greetings from him, and occasionally his friends, when they saw you outside.

Your parents had returned, yet they were still put most of the time, working. You spent the morning cleaning up the house, and had finished well before noon. Out of boredom, you decided to make cookies.

After a few hours, you were surrounded by cookies and cookie dough, your music blaring loudly with whatever random Spotify playlist you had chosen. In your excitement, you hadn’t realized that you had made literally fifteen dozen chocolate chip cookies, and there was no way to eat them all.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of yelling and hollering outside. The boys! You could give them each a dozen to take home and you’d still have two dozen left.

With that decided, you put the cookies in individual ziplock bags and stuffed them all in one of your mother’s oversized grocery bags. You turned off your phone and pocketed it before leaving the house.

The boys were all near the pool again, as they had been since the early morning when you started your chores. With a few steps, you were outside the pool gate, opening the latch and letting yourself into what looked to be an intense chicken-fight competition. There were nine boys standing at the pool edge with their backs to you. They hadn’t noticed your presence, as they were too busy cheering on the four boys in the pool. You snuck beside one of them to see Joshua sitting on the shoulders of the boy you had shot with a Nerf gun just a couple of month ago. His hands were linked with another boy’s, and they both were straining to push the other off.

In the excitement of the other boys’ cheering, you played along. "Go Joshua! Take him down!”

Joshua froze at your voice, allowing the other boy to shove him into the water. Each of the boys turned to look at you, and the one in the pool was the first to speak, “It’s Nerf girl!”

Joshua resurfaced and pushed his bangs off his forehead. “Y/n?”

“Hi, Joshua,” you said with an awkward wave.

The boy you had shot spoke again, “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of the punishment, Shua. Jeonghan won so he gets to flick your forehead.”

All of the boys agreed, and so Joshua and the other three boys pushed themselves out of the pool. Joshua walked over to the towels and quickly wrapped one around his shoulders before making his way towards you. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged and held up the bag. “I made too many cookie so I thought I would share. There’s a bag for each of you.”

Suddenly, Joshua’s punishment was forgotten as each of the boys scrambled to get their bag of cookies. They each thanked you, but you could hardly reply after seeing their handsome faces up close. When there was only one bag left, you pulled it out and handed it to Joshua with a soft smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Y/n.” Joshua scratched the back of his head, “Do you want to come swimming?”

The thought of Joshua seeing you in your swimsuit made you blush, but it was hot outside and you were bored. “Sure. Let me go get my swimsuit.”

-

Joshua thought his ears were going to absolutely burn from the heat that crept up them. Your bathing suit made you look even more stunning, and Joshua was finding it hard not to stare as you smiled and laughed with the other boys. Everyone was taking a break to eat their cookies, which were no longer separated by dozens, but instead passed around and mixed up until nearly all of them were gone by you and the thirteen hungry boys.

“So, what’s it like living next to our Joshua?” Jeonghan asked you with a smirk as he leaned back into the lawn chair.

Joshua groaned, a cookie in his hand. “Guys… don’t bother her.”

“It’s okay,” you answered Jeonghan, ignoring Joshua’s pleas. “When you guys aren’t waking me up, that is. Actually, when you guys aren’t over at all, it’s quite pleasant.”

Jeonghan rose his eyebrows, “Hear that, Shua? She likes it when you’re the only one home.”

“That’s not what she meant—” Joshua started, but he was quickly cut off by all the boys’ suggestive cooing.

“Leave him alone,” you said, your own cheeks aflame.

Joshua found it endearing that you were sticking up for him. In fact, as the day progressed, and he talked more with you, he felt absolutely enamored with you to the point where he wasn’t sure he could hold it in any longer.

-

After you showered and cleansed all of the chlorine off of your body, you made your way to the window seat. As you dried your hair with a towel, you listened for Joshua’s song through your cracked window, ”Leave this blue neighborhood, never knew loving could hurt this good, oh, and it drives me wild. ‘Cause when you look like that, I’ve never ever wanted to be so bad, oh, it drives me wild. You’re driving me wild, wild, wild…“

The thought that he could be singing to you crossed your mind yet again, and before you could stop yourself, you pushed open your window and hung your head out. "Hey, Joshua!”

Having been staring at his guitar, he jumped when you called his name. The song stopped abruptly, and Joshua turned to see your head out of your window. “Yeah?”

You sent him a smile, “Can I ask you something?”

Joshua opened his own window all the way so he could hear you better. As he retuned his guitar to keep his nervous fingers occupied, he replied, “Shoot.”

“Are you playing those songs for me, or is it just a coincidence?”

Joshua’s eyes widened as he realized that you had caught on to his act. He cleared his throat, “A–Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

As he played his new song, he heard your laugh as it echoed across the way. “Joshua, stop! I wanna talk to you!”

Reluctantly, Joshua did stop. “Yeah. Okay, well, I guess I like you but I didn’t actually know how to convey it. I was sort of hoping my songs would charm you into liking me too.”

You smiled brightly, “Oh, they did. Especially those freestyle raps you sang about how much you wanted tacos.”

Joshua laughed nervously. “You heard that?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “It was cute, though.”

Joshua stared at your confident smile for another moment before biting his lip. “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

“I would love to, as long as you’ll keep singing for me. I expect a rap about how much you enjoyed our date as well.”

“You got it,” Joshua said. “Any requests before I head in for the night?”

You hummed in thought before replying, “How about Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis?”

Joshua’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. That’s a good one. Okay. Right. Cool. Let’s go.”

He began to sing, and once again you curled into your window seat, listening to his soft voice conveying not only your feelings, but his own as well.

~the end~