#plus my glass of water plus my water bottle (which i had just finished washing today thank you very much)

[katierosefun]

sometimes i'll come out of my little work haze and then look around my desk and just realize how it looks like something's exploded

[dirtyglitterr]

ꜰᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

Neymar Jr x Original Character Summary: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ᴡᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ʙʏ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ? ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀᴛʜꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Warnings: Mature Language

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴠꜱ. ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ

My eyes snapped open, and I sat up in the bed, regretting it instantly as my head then felt as if I had just been run over by a semi. The light coming through the curtains did help. It made me realize that it was morning, but I couldn't remember how I got home or what happened the night before. "Fuck," I groaned as I tried to piece together my memories from the night before. I looked down, thankful that I still had on my dress, even though I had accomplished my goal of getting blackout drunk. I didn't fuck some random, which was a plus.

I took a look around the room, confused. It was unfamiliar to me, and I couldn't recognize any of the decorations or furniture. I damn sure wasn't in my studio apartment. Just looking at most of the decor in this room, from my experience, it must have cost more than my student loan debt to finish this room.

As I searched for any clues, my eyes landed on a piece of paper on the nightstand. I hesitated for a moment, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I reached for it. The note was written in messy handwriting, and it said, "I didn't want to wake you. I went to practice. I'll be back soon. Junior." Before I even had a chance to freak out, the doors to the bedroom opened. I clutched the duvet to my chest, not knowing who would be walking through the doors.

Oh fuck, it was the dream guy, fuck, he looked even better when I was awake too. He smiled at me and said, "Bom dia, Flor. Dormiu bem?" My heart raced as I realized that this was not a dream; I was really here in his bedroom. His dark brown hair was curled and tousled; still in his workout attire from practice, his hazel eyes were bright with amusement as he took in my disheveled appearance. I tried to play it cool, but my heart was racing, and I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he walked towards me with a glass of water and a bottle of Advil.

I thanked him for the water and Advil and took them gratefully. As I sipped the water, I tried to think of something witty to say, but my mind was blank. All I could do was stare at him in awe, wondering how I had managed to end up in his bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and just like that, I saw my pendant that hung from his neck. "Junior, is it really you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He smiled and nodded, confirming my suspicions. It all came back to me in a rush—the hallway.

"What do you remember from last night, Flor?" he asked, concern etched on his face. I took a deep breath and tried to piece together the events of the previous night. "I remember bumping into you in the hallway at my post-breakup party at the club. other than that, nothing." I said, not thinking anything of it. I finally got him back into my life, and that's all that mattered to me. However, his expression changed, and he looked at me with concern.

"Are you sure that's all you remember?" he asked hesitantly. Suddenly, a wave of anxiety washed over me as I realized there might be more to last night than I thought.

"I did something embarrassing, didn't I?" I asked, feeling my face flush with embarrassment. Bracing myself for the worst.

"No. You didn't do anything embarrassing," he reassured me with a smile. "But we all did have a lot to drink and got into somethings."

"Why are you being so damn cryptic, Junior? If I did something that you remember that I can't right now, just spit it out. I can handle it," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Junior hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up.

"Did we?" I quickly asked, hoping to cut him off before he finished the question.

"No, no, it's not that," he chuckled, shaking his head. "If we did, you'd never forget that," he cockily said, trying to lighten the mood. I let out a small laugh, relieved that it wasn't something serious.

"You're confident." I smiled, dragging myself from his bed. "Don't worry, I'll be out of here in a bit; I just need to put my brain back into my head."

"I don't mind you being here," he replied, still grinning. "Besides, I brought lunch."

"Thanks," I smiled over to his bathroom, I was my own personal jump scare once I'd seen my reflection in the mirror. My hair was no longer in the low bun, and instead, my black hair dangled past my shoulders in a frizzy mess. My lips were slightly red and plumped, which they usually get after a steamy making-out session. I smirked. Maybe I made out with either Charles or Lewis, or both. Or Junior, the thoughts of Junior and me possibly getting on like in my fever dream made my body hot. God, he was fine, and I'll only admit that to myself for now.

I sighed as I looked at my wrist, thankful that I had a hair tie to use to try and tame my rat's nest. But it was the oval diamond ring on my ring finger that caught my attention the most.

ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ

ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​​🇰​​🇸​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇩​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Sundress Season

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k

Tags: Fluff, Domestic af, Hurt/Comfort, Nothing major the Reader got some scratches gardening and Frankie is Concerned, p in v sex, wrap it before you tap it, Size Kink, Sort Of, Exhibitionism, If You Squint, A little, Dirty Talk, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff (plus a little loving smut),Triple Frontier, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Domestic, Gardening, Outdoor Sex, No Beta

Summary: You and Frankie have just moved into a farmhouse fixer upper and are enjoying the first warm day of spring. A lazy afternoon nap turns into something... more.

Read on Ao3

Leaning the shovel against the white picket fence, you stand back to take an appraising look at your handiwork, squinting against the midday sun. You’ve taken advantage of one of the first truly warm days of spring to plant some blackberry bushes along the boundary of your new home. Sweat slides down your spine and you can already feel a dull ache spreading through your calves and along your forearms, but you toss aside your leather work gloves with a grin, proud of your morning’s work. You brush your hair away from your face with the back of an arm, leaving a trace of dirt along your forehead. “Frankie, come look.”

“One sec.” His answer is muffled, even considering it’s coming from inside the old farmhouse the two of you have just moved into, and you realize he must still be working on the kitchen sink.

You enter the house, surprisingly cool and dim after the sunny warmth outside, and walk to the kitchen. Frankie’s legs jut out from beneath the sink, and all you can see of him are his work boots, khaki pants, and a glimpse of his soft stomach where the rusty red t-shirt he’s wearing has ridden up. You lean against a nearby counter, the smooth stone lip pressing into your lower back, and smile down fondly at him. “How’s the sink coming?”

The house is a dream come true for both of you, but it’s also needed a ton of work both inside and out. You’ve already sanded floors, patched up creaking stairs, painted most of the rooms, and ripped out overgrown hedges that had threatened to take over the yard. Once you’d cleared them out, the yard and gardens became an invitingly open canvas, just waiting for you to make your own.

The two of you had spent several late winter evenings curled up in front of the stone hearth, seed catalogs and plant nursery order slips laid out in front of you, arguing pleasantly over how to cram in every plant both of you want. You’re determined to line the yard with fruit trees and shrubs, while Frankie is surprisingly invested in the beds where he plans to cultivate tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and a variety of herbs. At least you both agreed to leave the large, well-established lilac trees bookending the house, and you’re currently waiting to see who will win the bet about what color the sprawling, thorn-covered rose bushes will be. You’re hoping for a buttery yellow to complement the lilacs, while Frankie is holding out hope that they’ll be the same pale pink as the roses he’d brought you for one of your first dates.

This morning, just when the two of you had made plans to tackle some of the new plantings, the kitchen drain had backed up. You’d decided that job would be better handled by Frankie and headed out to start the landscaping yourself. “Almost there, I just need to…” Frankie’s deep in concentration, and you swear you can almost see him sticking the tip of his tongue out as he focuses. There’s a final sound of metal scraping against metal, followed by a victorious “ha! Try it now.”

“You sure? I don’t want to soak you.”

A muted huff echoes from the space below the sink. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Ok,” you shrug. “Just don’t blame me if you get a faceful of water.” You turn the tap on slowly and watch as the water spirals easily down the drain. “Hey, you did it!”

Frankie braces a hand along the top of the cabinet and pulls himself to his feet. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he teases. “Told you I could do it.”

“My hero,” you say lightly, crossing the floor to kiss his smiling cheek. His scruff scrapes lightly against your face, and you find yourself lingering, especially when he captures your lips for a proper kiss. “Now I can wash some of this dirt off- I feel like I brought half the yard in.” After the hours you spent planting various shrubs and a few small fruit trees, your arms are streaked with dry soil.

“Here, let me help you.”

Frankie steps behind you, his broad form leaning against yours as you stand at the newly repaired sink. His thighs press lightly against your own as his arms encircle your waist. He leans his chin on your shoulder and his messy curls brush against your ear while he begins to run soap over your forearms. You laugh, his efforts mostly just splashing dirty water around, but the cool water is a welcome relief. “Frankie! I can do it myself.”

You can feel him smiling against your neck. “I know, I just- oh.” His voice turns suddenly soft, with a note of worry.

“What is it?”

“Baby, you hurt yourself.” He steps alongside you, examining the delicate skin of your inner arm with a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“What?” You look down and see a few thin, angry red lines streaking the length of your forearms. “Oh, it’s nothing. The blackberry branches were thorny, that’s all.” You’d been wearing one of Frankie’s flannels for a little extra protection, but it had grown too hot and you’d stripped down to just your t-shirt. “It’s fine, they’ll heal fast.”

Despite your reassurance, Frankie ducks into the bathroom while you pat your arms dry with a clean dish towel and comes back holding some ointment. “They’ll heal better with this.” He flips open the cap and looks up, seeking permission.

You nod, unwilling to deny him anything, especially with that melting brown gaze trained on you. It’s not necessary, but you have to admit- you love that he takes such good care of you. Frankie takes his time, gently stroking a dab of ointment over each small scratch. His light touch quickly takes the sting out of your small hurts, and when he’s finished you catch his hands, bring them up to your lips for a grateful kiss. You adore his hands- so much bigger than your own, strong and capable but still so deft. He ducks his head and smiles and your heart clenches with love for this quiet, loving man.

------- After changing out of your dirt-streaked jeans and into a clean sundress (which, of course, Frankie also offered to help with), you head back to the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge. The cold glass bottle begins beading almost at once, and you hold it against your slightly sunburnt neck. “I was going to go read in the yard for a bit, care to join me?”

“I’ve got a couple more things to finish up here, you go ahead.” Frankie drops a kiss to your temple as you pass, on your way to get a book and an old quilt to spread out on.

“Ok, see you in a bit.” The old screen door swings shut behind you, bouncing slightly before it catches the latch. A project for another day, you think. The two of you have already done plenty, and for now you just want to enjoy the rest of the sunny afternoon.

You spread your quilt out under a flowering magnolia tree which offers just the right amount of shade and lay down on your back. A light breeze stirs the green grass around you and sets the flowering tree branches swaying, a few pale pink petals raining down. Sunlight dapples your face as you relax, enjoying the surroundings of the garden you and Frankie are making together. The book is good, but you find yourself distracted, listening to nearby birdsong and watching billowing clouds scud across the bright blue sky. With the sun warm on your face, it’s not long before your eyelids are drooping.

-------

When you wake up, shadows are lengthening across the yard and Frankie is sprawled out next to you, having come out and dozed off at some point after you did. You lean into his shoulder, still warm from the heat of the sun, and smile against him. There’s a patch of skin just below his hairline and above his collar, and you lean in to kiss him just there. He tastes faintly of clean sweat and you press your tongue against him, seeking the slight taste of salt.

Frankie stirs and sleepily cracks one eye open. “Can I help you?” Try as he might to sound long-suffering, you suspect he enjoys your touch.

“Nope, I’m good.” You toss your book aside and drape yourself over his back, enjoying the slight movement below you as he shifts to accommodate you. It’s getting a little cooler now as the sun slips towards the horizon, but Frankie’s warm, solid presence grounds you. He tenses a little when you lean your head on his shoulder and you pull back at once. “Is your shoulder still bugging you?” He’d pulled it while you were moving and as hard as you try, you don’t always manage to wrest the heavier chores away from him, so it’s been a slow recovery process.

His answer rumbles quietly from below you. “A little. Working on the sink probably didn’t do it any favors.” You lean up at once, straddling his waist so you can massage his neck and shoulders. “Poor thing, you are tight here.”

He hums in agreement, though you can feel the tension begin to leak out of him as you knead his tense muscles. You work a stubborn knot, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, and as he sighs you can feel him relax further.

You lean down once more, careful to put your weight on your hands, braced against the ground,  and drag your mouth lazily over his neck. Your seeking licks turning to more intent kisses and when your teeth close over his pulse point, Frankie lets out a low groan and bucks his hips. You feel the movement all through him, especially where you’re seated against his ass.

“You want me to stop?” You ask teasingly, getting the expected shake of his head in response. You grind slightly against him before returning to nose at his neck. By the time you trace the shell of his ear with your tongue and nip gently at the cartilage, Frankie has had enough.

He rolls the two of you over with a smooth motion that ends with you flat on your back, and him smiling above you. “Oh, are we done fooling around?” You look up playfully. “I can show you the blackberry bushes before-”

He stops your mouth with a kiss, nipping at your lower lip before licking his way into your mouth. Delight shivers through you and you deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling languidly. You run your hand through his tangled curls, scraping your nails against his scalp. This pulls a soft noise from low in Frankie’s throat as he leans into your touch. His nose brushes yours and he nudges your cheek, trails kisses down your jaw.

Heat is pooling low in your belly and you spread your legs to invite him closer. Frankie takes the hint, canting his hips to drag the growing bulge in his pants against your core while you push back into him. “We should head inside,” you gasp as he moves lower, sucking at the delicate skin of your neck.

“We can if you want, but who’s gonna see?” His large hands cup your breasts and he dips his head to brush kisses over their swells. You arch your back, desperate for his touch even as you look around cautiously. He has a point; there’s no neighbor on this side of the house, just a patch of woods, and you’re well back from the road.

“Good point.” You reach down to tug at the hem of his shirt. Grinning, he sits up for a moment to help you. As soon as he’s shirtless he gets straight back to the task at hand. Frankie’s fingers make quick work of the buttons running the length of your sundress and he pulls the fabric aside, exposing the creamy lace of your bra. Your stomach flips at the sweet, eager look on his face. You’ve been together so many times, but he always makes you feel special, cherished. Despite being outside, potentially exposed, you feel completely at ease in his arms.  

With a quick glance up to check that you’re ok with it, Frankie unclasps your bra and helps you shrug out of it. The air is slightly cooler now, but his warm, broad palms encompass your breasts before the chill can even register. You sigh as his thumb brushes your nipple, and downright shudder when he wraps his plush lips around the stiffening peak. Your legs are writhing almost of their own accord now as you grow desperate for more. “Frankie,” you groan, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips curve into a smile and his tongue darts out to flick against you. It glides along your swollen bud and your pussy aches for more so you hitch your leg over his hip. Frankie grabs your thigh to hold you close and rolls his hips sinfully against you, drawing a desperate noise from deep in your throat. “You like that, baby?”

You nod frantically. “You know I do. You know it drives me crazy when you put your mouth on me.”

Frankie chuckles and sucks your nipple into his mouth, pulling much of your breast along with it. The tugging sensation sends a bolt of desire straight to your cunt and you whine. You seize his jaw and glare, your eyes blown with lust. “If you don’t touch me soon Francisco I swear I will go inside without you and finish the job myself.”

You’re all talk and Frankie knows it. “I am touching you, sweetheart,” he says innocently.

You give an irritated huff and seize his hand, directing him where you want it. His composure slips when his fingers brush the crotch of your panties, already soaked with your need. His gaze flicks to yours, a lovestruck look in his eyes as he asks softly, “is this all for me?”

Biting your lip you nod. “Yes. I need you Frankie, please .”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby.” Frankie hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and drags them over your legs. You kick them off, nearly sobbing in relief as he drags a single finger through your glistening folds.

Frankie closes his eyes reverently. “Shit honey, you weren’t kidding.” His finger comes away coated in your juices and he sucks it slowly before replacing the digit. He adds another finger, the pads slipping just inside your entrance to collect more of your slick before circling your clit. You tip your head back, grasping his shoulders as he gently fingers your slit. Just when you can’t take it, when you’re ready to beg for more, he pushes those fingers into you, stretching you out perfectly. Mewling, you buck your hips, chasing the feeling of him fucking you open.

“Mm, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Never. Think you can take another?”

“Yeah.” Your answer comes as a breathless whine.

“Good girl.” Frankie adds a third finger and you swear it makes you see stars. He curls his fingers to stroke that spot deep inside and you find yourself skating the edge of your release. You’re so close, could so easily tip right over that edge, but it’s not until you hear Frankie murmur “come for me, beautiful” that you actually do. All that gorgeous tension he’s been winding up unspools in a rush of pleasure, your legs shaking and your hips bucking as he works you through it.

You’ve scarcely begun to come down before Frankie’s blazing a trail of kisses down your belly, his hands gently parting your thighs wider to settle between them, keen concentration suffusing his handsome face.

“Wait,” you breathe, catching his jaw with a deft hand.

Frankie draws back at once, concern creasing a furrow between his brows as he gazes up from between your legs. “Everything ok?”

You sit up, already nodding to reassure him as you draw him forward and kiss him deeply. “Everything’s perfect. I just want to come on your cock this time.”

Frankie looks down at you in amazement before pulling you into a crushing embrace. He tilts your chin up to give you a searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your lips as he rasps “You’re perfect, you know that, right?”

You giggle, moved by the awestruck look on his face, and drop your hands to unbuckle his pants. He’s already barefoot, making it easier to push his pants down, followed by his boxers. You glance around again, reassuring yourself that the coast is clear. Clocking what you’re doing, Frankie chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, we’re good.”

Smiling a little sheepishly, you nod. “I know. Just protecting your honor.”

Frankie begins to laugh softly but the sound is cut off by a hiss as you lick your palm and wrap it around his shaft. “F-fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head as you tighten your grip, working his cock. You brush your thumb over his weeping slit, collecting the pearly bead of precum glistening at the tip. “Now who’s being a t-tease?”

You look up at him innocently through your lashes. “I don’t know what you mean, Frankie.”

“Sure you don’t,” he huffs, his breathing already picking up. “C’mere, baby.” He pulls at your waist, encouraging you up into his lap.

You’re happy to oblige. With a few quick movements, you’re settled above him, his cock lined up with your entrance. Throwing your arms around his neck, you lower yourself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Frankie buries his face in the crook of your neck and meets you halfway, thrusting up to seat himself fully inside you. He always seems even bigger when you’re on top, and he gives you a moment to adjust to being so well-filled.

“You good?”

“You have no idea.”

He smiles at that, clearly pleased. “Then tell me,” he urges, kissing you just below your ear. “Tell me how much you like me stretching you out on this big dick.”

Your eyes flutter closed at this. He knows what dirty talk does to you, knows exactly when it will be the most devastating. “It feels so fucking good, baby,” you assure him. “You’re so thick and you hit so deep. I can’t get enough, want you even deeper. Please, Frankie.”

He sucks hard at your pulse point, his tongue laving your neck as he begins to thrust up into you. “Anything, baby. I will give you anything you ask for. You know that, right?”

Gasping, you nod quickly. “I know, love. I know.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, his strong arms bracing you as he fucks up into you. You match each thrust, grinding yourself on the base of his cock. The two of you find your rhythm and you lean back, allowing him to hit at an even deeper angle. Frankie leans forward, able to reach your breasts now. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, all wet heat and slick tongue moving against you. You whimper and arch your back, trusting him to support you.

He does.

Frankie’s eyes are screwed shut as he pounds into you, determined to take care of you before finding his own release. Your whimpering cries plateau and he can tell you’re not quite there yet. He rests his forehead against yours without missing a beat, opening his eyes to gaze into yours. “What do you need, baby?” He asks it softly, reverently, his large hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy. With him looking at you like this, you almost feel that way.

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you gasp. “Want to hear how much you like this.”

Your want pulls an answering moan from him. “God, you know I fucking love this. You’re so tight, and you take me so well, baby. I could pound this pretty pussy all day.” He snaps his hips, driving himself deeper inside you as if to prove his point.

Your breathing comes faster, your cunt clenching around him as his words drive you closer to your edge. “Fuck, yes, just like that. I’m so close, baby,” you whine.

Frankie cants his hips, hitting that devastating spot deep inside you. His voice is even huskier as he urges you onward. “You have no idea what hearing that does to me, sweet thing,” he pants, sweat dampening his hairline. He runs the back of his hand distractedly over his forehead. He’s not about to let go before you do and he leans in close, his warm breath ghosting against your ear. “ Come for me. I know you want to. I can feel you clenching around me so be my good girl and come for me, sweetheart . ”

And just like that, a wave of sweet pleasure rolls through you. You clutch his shoulders as the two of you ride it together, Frankie moaning against your lips as he finds his own release.

Your head drops to his shoulder, your limbs quivering as little aftershocks zip through them. Frankie holds your limp form easily, dropping lazy kisses over your face and hair while you drift back to the present. Finally, you draw back, a dazed smile tugging at your lips. You blow out a breath along with a tired, please laugh. “That was-”

Frankie chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, pleased to have pleased you. “I know, baby.” His kisses are easy, unhurried, and still make you feel nearly drunk with happiness as the two of you linger lazily in your afterglow.

By now, the sun is truly setting, the horizon taking on a purple hue as the first evening stars begin to appear. Even in Frankie’s arms, you start to shiver as the breeze whispers over your rapidly cooling skin. In a deft move, he tugs at the edge of the old quilt, rolling the two of you into it, creating a cocoon of private warmth. As the sky darkens and more stars appear, the two of you stay wrapped up in each other, making plans for your future in the peaceful space you’re creating together.

[writer-k-pop]

Lil’ Drunk

기억나? Do you remember it?

Description: Alcohol is something you never touch, it's just not your cup of tea. But one night, you decide to throw caution to the wind because you were feeling guilty for being the only sober one whenever Woozi and his friends drink together. But after you drink a little too much, Woozi is called in to get you home safely. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Angst, Fluff, BF!Woozi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"She's...." Woozi's voice trails off on the other end of the line.

"Drunk." (y/f/n) finishes, holding your phone up to her ear.

"How? She never drinks." He wonders incredulously but at the same time is scrambling to collect his things.

(y/f/n) shrugs, "Well, she did tonight. And she drank a lot."

"Is she gonna get sick on the way home?" Woozi wonders, slightly worried about how he's going to get you home.

"I don't think so. She's just very, mm, very emotional." (y/f/n) says glancing over as you have your head buried in your hands. Not tears yet, just massive amounts of guilt.

Woozi sighs more out of worry than anything. Worry because you really never drink. Partly because you're a lightweight and partly because you hate, absolutely despise, the way alcohol makes your body feel. Gets you all red and itchy and it's not a fun time for you.

"I'll be right over. Could you text me your address?" Woozi asks, slipping on his jacket.

"Yeah, no problem." (y/f/n) says and hangs up before texting Woozi her address. Then she places your phone back into your purse.

Your hands drop from your face then and you continue your previous rant, cheeks are still bright red as is the little amount of chest showing. And from the last bathroom trip, everyone knows your thighs are also cherry red.

"I just, I just feel so so so bad." You lull your head to the side. "Like I know it's not my fault for not enjoying alcohol or the taste or how it makes my body feel but I feel so bad when all his friends are drinking and I'm the only sober one."

"Who wants to play another game?" Another one of your friends asks, trying to break the odd tension you've created. But the question only springs another tangent from you.

"And games!" You throw your hands into the air, "When we play games and it involves drinking I try not play because half of the time Woozi has to drink for me! Why am I always the sober one?" You lean in close to the person next to you to emphasize your question.

"Because you have your reasons." She answers your question with a humored smile. She's clearly enjoying your drunken state as are the others along with a little worry cause they've never seen you drunk or drinking before.

"My reasons make me feel guilty." You pout like a child. "I'm starting to wonder if I should drink more and force myself to get better with it all."

"No, no, no." (y/f/n) quickly shakes her hands in front of her, "That's probably not a good idea. Remember the last time you tried that?"

"When did I ever do that?" You ask, blinking blankly at her.

"Before you finally gave up on alcohol the first time." She reminds you and the memory resurfaces like a bad nightmare.

You visibly shiver and suddenly have a craving for water. "Pass me the water bottle?" You reach out a hand and one of your friends places it in your hand. "I still feel guilty as hell though." You mention after taking a couple sips.

Before you could spiral back into the guilt ridden speech, Woozi knocks on the front door.

"Who's that?" You whip your head around as (y/f/n) goes to answer the door.

She opens the door and reveals Woozi to the room and to you. As soon as you see him, you press your lips together to keep from saying anything about your earlier rant.

"You ready to go?" Woozi asks you, walking closer with a warm smile on his face. If you were sober you would've noticed the tinge of worry in his eyes but you were drunk so that detail went way over your head.

Not wanting to break your newly found code of silence, you simply nod your head though questions are flying through you mind.

Why is he here?

Where am I ready to go?

Is he taking me?

Are we all going together?

(y/f/n) hands Woozi your purse as you stand and walk to his side. Then he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you out of (y/f/n)'s place. You stumble here and there but are pretty stable when walking which brings some relief to Woozi.

"Did you have fun?" He asks you while waving down a taxi.

Again, in your code of silence, you just nod while focusing on staying standing and not letting your butt meet the concrete sidewalk.

Within seconds, a taxi pulls up and Woozi ushers you into the back seat before joining you and telling the driver an address. You're not sure if it's your address or his. If it's his then you're going to be going to an apartment with twelve other guys who will definitely never let you live this down. But that thought hasn't hit you yet.

You let your head fall onto Woozi's shoulder during the car ride and he lazily intertwines your hands together.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asks you quietly and you just nod your head truthfully.

"How much did you drink?" He continues to question you but you only shrug, staying silent.

Woozi chuckles, "(y/f/n) said that you were being chatty and ranting about something. But now you're all quiet."

Again, you just give him a small shrug as an answer.

"Just tell me if you don't feel good, okay?" He asks, concern now seeping into his voice slightly but again, it goes right over your head.

You nod your head and feel your eyelids become heavy. Guess the adrenaline only lasts while your friends are there to keep fueling it.

By the time the taxi stops and Woozi pays, you're about ready to fall fast asleep.

"Just a bit longer, (y/n)." He says and tugs you out of the taxi before closing the door and wrapping his arm around you waist again.

"I really don't want the other guys to see me." You suddenly spit out and Woozi walk falters ever so slightly.

"I wouldn't bring you back to the dorm." He explains, "(y/f/n) lives closer to your place anyway."

You gasp, "You know (y/f/n)?" You ask, shocked in your drunken state.

"We've met a few times and she called me tonight to come and pick you up." He explains.

"Why would she call you?" You wonder, "I was fine. We were all fine."

Woozi sees the tiny opening in the conversation and dives straight for it, too curious to be stopped. "Well, she said you were getting emotional."

You place a hand over your chest, "I was? No, I wasn't. I was just explaining how I feel bad because my boyfriend and his friends like to drink but I always end up being the sober one. And then my one friend had to mention games and then it only reminded me how my boyfriend - his name's Woozi by the way - my boyfriend always has to drink for me if we play games and how terrible I feel about it because he has to drink twice as much." You inhale dramatically after rushing the last bit as your breath ran out with it.

Woozi stays silent and internalizes your words. In all honesty, your soberness never bothered him. He didn't mind drinking for you since he had a pretty good tolerance and drinking for you allowed him to get to an enjoyable buzz quicker than if he was drinking for just himself. And again because of his tolerance, he never minded that you were sober. He was always essentially sober when his friends drank so it was nice to have you around as another sober person. Plus he knew you detested the feeling you got when you drank so he respected that and never tried to get you to drink.

"Heyyyyyy." You point to your front door, "This is the same number as my place! Has your place always been the same number as mine?" You ask, turning towards him with wide curious eyes.

Quickly unlocking your front door, he chuckles, "No, this is your place." He says and opens the door before you go bounding inside.

"Woozi! Look!" You exclaim, gesturing to your couch, "It's my COUCH! I sat right here while you and all your friends drank that one time." You plop onto the couch and groan while squeezing your eyes shut, "And I was the only sober one that time too."  

Closing the front door, all Woozi can do is shake his head and chuckle at your current state.

-the next morning-

Rolling out of bed, a low throbbing in your head makes you groan. Stumbling towards the kitchen, your mind replays hazy dream like memories of you going over to (y/f/n)'s place, deciding to throw in the towel and drink, and drink some more, then Woozi showed up and brought you home where you think you screamed something about your couch before talking about being sober.

"You're awake." Woozi states the obvious as he stands next to the coffee maker, "I was just about to come and wake you up."

You give him a half smile, the most you can muster with your headache raging, "My head is killing me, do I have any painkillers or something?"

Woozi chuckles and points to the dining table where a large glass of water sits next to a napkin with two painkillers. "Way ahead of you. And drink the whole glass. It'll help."

You nod and pop the pills into your mouth before washing them down with the entire glass of water.

"Did I really drink that much last night?" You wonder and head into the kitchen to refill the glass.

"I don't really know how much you drank." Woozi admits while pouring out his coffee, "But yeah, I would guess it was a lot."

Leaning back against the counter, you let your head fall forward in dismay.

"Do you remember it?" Woozi asks, copying your position opposite of you.

You nod slowly, "It's foggy but I remember pretty much all of it, yeah."

"You want to talk about it?" He offers a small smile.

"Don't you have to get to work?" You wonder, looking over at the clock in concern.

Woozi shrugs his shoulders, "Work can wait for a little. Plus I don't technically have to be in for a few hours."

You sigh and purse your lips, "Why was I talking about being sober?" You ask, still curious as to why the word 'sober' kept appearing in your memories.

"Well, you kind of get emotional when your drunk, apparently. And last night, you kept ranting about how bad you felt that you are always the only one who's sober when we get together with my friends." Woozi fills you in and your face drops in embarrassment.

"Oh fuck me." You groan and rub your hands over your face. "Oh, god, that's, oh god."

Woozi walks up to you and pulls your hands away from your face, "You know it doesn't bother me right?"

Looking at him, you ask, "Being an emotional drunk or being the only one who doesn't drink?"

A light smile touches his lips before he answers, "Both. But I'm mostly talking about you being sober while my friends and I drink."

"Really?" You question him, "Are you sure it doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not." Woozi says, gripping your hands a little tighter.

"Even when they make you drink for me when we play games?" You ask, scrunching your lips together.

"Even when they make me drink for you." He repeats your words with a light tone, "It doesn't bother me in the slightest. In fact, sometimes I enjoy those times."

"You- why?" You stutter, curious.

"Because of my tolerance, on a normal night I can barely get a buzz enough to tolerate the others but on game nights, when I drink for you, I reach that comfortable buzz faster." He explains, "And then Dokyeom, Hoshi, and Dino become ten times funnier."

He chuckles and you try to control a smile by lowering your head down but a little giggle comes out anyway.

"But I already talked to the guys." Woozi continues which brings your head up to meet his gaze. "I asked them to quit it with the 'if you're playing a drinking game, you need to be drinking alcohol' rule. They said fine so when we play, you can sip whatever drink you want to."

"Why?" You ask, feeling gratitude to Woozi but also some confusion as to why he would do that.

"Cause I was starting to sense that it wasn't sitting right with you that I was drinking for you." He tells you, "Yes, I picked up on that. I'm your boyfriend, I could read you after like six months of dating."

"Damn, I guess I gotta get better at hiding my thoughts then." You joke and Woozi rolls his eyes.

"Good luck." He offers encouragement with a touch of sarcasm and you stick your tongue out at him.

But Woozi quickly wipes the scowl away with a soft kiss to your lips.

"Thank you for talking to the guys. You really didn't have to." You tell him with a grateful smile.

"I kind of had to. They really were being pushy with the whole thing." He says, matter-of-factly. "Hey, can I ask why you drank yesterday in the first place?" He wonders, wrapping your arms around his waist before placing his around your waist.

You shrug, "I guess I was kind of tired of being the sober one so I just grabbed a drink and drank it."

"But you hate how alcohol makes you feel." He reasons.

"I do. But I just was feeling so guilty about possibly being a downer cause I don't drink that I guess, I just didn't care last night." You explain and rest your head on his chest/shoulder. "And I don't think I'll do it again. I really hated the feeling. And my body got so red, I swear it looked like I was sunburnt."

"Ah, more like you had just belly flopped into a pool." Woozi corrects your simile and you shoot a look up at him.

"What?" He counters your look, "Someone had to get you into your pajamas and you were in no state to do it yourself."

You bury your face into his neck as a blush blooms on your cheeks.

Woozi laughs and hugs you closer, "It's okay, you were an adorable drunk. And by the way," He shuffles the two over to where you can see the living room and he points to the couch while laughing, "That is indeed your couch."

[nomsugayoongi]

Off My Face. Part 4!

Pairings: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: Fluff. They get busted. Giggly!Joon. Flirty!Jk, SMUTTTTTT! Sweaty after practise Jk getting his fuck on in a bathroom. Not for littles.

•••••••••••••••••••••

She was warm. She was comfortable. She was probably the most relaxed she'd ever felt, floating in dreams. Something subtle was pulling her out. Back towards consciousness. She groaned sleepily, a warm, soft lump at her side wriggled also. Awareness hadn't quite crept in yet. The lull of sleep drawing her away. But there was a noise. Something that didn't want her to stay here. Sound started to form. Like a tapping sound. Glass maybe. More wriggling at the side of her, weight across her stomach, something tickling her neck. She lifted a heavy hand to swat at it, only to connect with something solid. Her fingers wriggled. Something soft beneith them. Tapping. More awareness. Jungkook. First formed thought. Before any real comprehension kicked in, he did. She sighed. Sleepy smile. More tapping. "Jungkookie?" She knew that voice. Awareness crashed back into place followed by panic. "Shit" she hissed, eyes snapping open. Sunlight flooded the room, Jungkook still asleep next to her. She'd fallen asleep in his bed. "Jungkookie, I'm coming in!" Namjoon called through the door.

Her eyes scanned the room furiously. There wasn't enough time for her to go anywhere. Plus her underwear was on the bedroom floor. Naked from the waist down, she frantically pulled the covers over herself. The door handle creaked. She elbowed Jungkook and braced for impact. His eyes shot open and he groaned, cradling his ribs where her elbow connected. He didn't have time to ask her what the hell was going on. He was still squinting stupidly when the door swung open and Namjoon appeared. "JK, you need to get up. We have....WOAH!!" Namjoon's hands shot to his mouth, frozen in the doorway at the sight that greeted him. His eyes wide. "What the....?" He started. Jungkook was awake now, scrambling into a sitting position. "WHAT IS THIS?" Namjoon shrieked, his shock dissolving into giggles. "Shut the door" Jungkook hissed. Namjoon booted the door closed, not taking his eyes off the pair in the bed. "What happened?" He whispered, still chuckling childishly. "We fell asleep" she replied stupidly. Jungkook had jumped out of bed, opening the bedroom door he peered either way down the hallway. "Where is everyone?" He questioned. "Showering or having breakfast. We let you sleep as long as we could but we have practise in an hour. What is going on here?" He asked again. "Good, so nobody heard you freaking out then." Jungkook mused, ignoring Namjoon's question. He turned back towards his bed, running his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. He flopped onto the bed next to her, resting his head against her shoulder with a sleepy grumble. That was not how he wanted to wake up. She smiled, stroking his hair. "GUYS...are you serious? What the hell?" Namjoon questioned for the fifth time. "You said nothing was going on" he added, pointing an accusing finger at her. "It wasn't...then." she replied sheepishly. Namjoon sat on the edge of the bed. "Well...when?" He asked, still reeling. "Yesterday. After dinner." She said simply. Namjoon gawped at them. "So...what? Now you're like...bed buddies?" Jungkook chuckled, finally lifting his head. "I wouldn't say it like that. Look, we like each other. We wanna see where it could go but it's....new. We didn't want anyone to know until we'd had a chance to figure it out ourselves. So please don't say anything to the others. Hyung...please." he asked sincerely. Namjoon frowned, his expression immediately becoming that of supportive big brother. "Of course I won't. But guys....this is....insane. I mean...it's GREAT. But...WOAH!" He chuckled. She grinned, nuzzling into Jungkooks side. "I told you to tell him" Namjoon smiled. Jungkook frowned looking from her to Namjoon. "Huh? Told her to tell me...." He muttered. "How she felt about you." He responded. Jungkooks frown deepened. "Why? How long have you known?" He asked. Namjoon shrugged. "Ages. Since she got back from England." Jungkook pouted, picking up the pillow and bashing her with it playfully. "Told him months ago. Told me yesterday. That's some kind of backwards." He whined. "I couldn't tell you. It was too intense. I was all...spazzy" she replied, defensively. "Uh huh?" He hummed, leaning in to kiss her. "Uh huh!" She replied, catching his lips in a soft kiss. Namjoon cleared his throat loudly. "Still here guys. Plus, I don't wanna ruin your moment but you really do need to get up. 50 minutes till dance practise." He reminded. Jungkook groaned loudly, throwing his head back. "I'll be down in 5 minutes. Need to pee and brush my teeth" he grunted. Namjoon nodded, giving them one last huge smile before departing. Once Namjoon has left, Jungkook started trying to motivate himself, rifling through his wardrobe for something comfy to wear. He usually really enjoyed dance practise but that was when he hadn't stayed up most of the night before and didn't have a half naked, beautiful girl in his bed. "Jungkook, can you pass me my underwear please?" He turned, smiling at the blush flooding her cheeks as she sat in his bed, hugging her knees. "They're right there." He said, pointing to the spot on the floor where they'd landed. "Well...can you get

them for me?" She asked. "But they're closer to you than me. Why can't you get them?" He questioned, folding his arms with a smirk. Her face burned scarlet. "Cause...I'm naked under here. You'll see." She whispered. He walked over, picking them up and leaned onto the bed, kissing her before dropping them in her lap and turning back to his wardrobe. "I've already seen." He said in a sing song tone. "Jeon Jungkook" she hissed. "What? I have. I had my whole face right up in there. Too late to get shy about it now." He teased. She scrambled under the covers to pull on her underwear, blushing furiously. "Stop it, beast" she grunted. He turned back again with a grin, grabbing her hands and pulling her out of bed. He hooked a finger under her chin as she tried to avoid his gaze, forcing her to look at him. "Don't be shy. You don't need to be. You were so beautiful last night. Watching you come undone like that..." He paused and sighed, shaking his head. "...i'd be trying to make you look that way again right now if I didn't have practise. You don't have to hide from me. I like every inch of you. Very much." He caught her lips, his kiss sweet but just a touch of his hunger leaking through. His thumb trailed softly down her face. "JUNGKOOK" a collective scream bellowed from downstairs. He lept back from her reluctantly. "ALRIGHT" he hollered back. "To be continued." He muttered, apologetically, grabbing a handful of clothes and speeding off towards the bathroom. She took a quick shower and decided to get herself ready before heading downstairs. Hair washed, blow dried and straightened. Cute outfit. Minimal make up. She didn't want to look like she was trying to look good. But she still wanted to look good. That was an issue when the person you had just started dating could look good in a sack. She bounced downstairs about half an hour after Jungkook had left her. "Morning guys" she called. Namjoon was grinning at her stupidly which made her giggle. She ruffled his hair playfully as she walked past, causing a distressed grunt from him as he tried to fix it. She walked up to the table, throwing her arms around Suga's shoulders from behind as he sat eating his breakfast. "Oh...hello" he smiled, patting her hands. Jungkook was sat opposite looking sinfully good. Baggy black cargo pants, a black long sleeved shirt that absolutely swamped the frame underneath but still managed to look great on him. She guessed black sneakers too even though she couldn't see his feet. He was shovelling cereal into his mouth, his eyes flickering over her face in a way that made her feel naked. She let go of Suga, planting a peck on the top his head then made her way round the table, leaning over it unnecessarily to grab a piece of toast right in Jungkooks eye line. He swallowed a huge mouthful of cereal, fighting a smirk. "Hungry?" He asked. She hummed her affirmative as she chewed. "Starved" she replied. "You? Didn't you do enough eating yesterday?" She raised a cocky eyebrow then bit her lip to hold in a laugh as she heard Namjoon choke on his food behind her. Jungkooks face remained neutral but she saw his ears flush. He shrugged casually. "Nope. Still hungry" Jungkook replied. His eyes were burning into her. "You know he could eat for his country" Jin piped up. She let herself laugh at that and nodded, turning and heading away from the table. "That's very true" she replied quietly. ----------------------------------------------------------- She had just about finished cleaning the house when she heard the cars pull up outside and collective sounds of the guys. The front doors banged open and they filed in, talking and laughing amongst themselves. She grinned having already prepared cold drinks and snacks for them all. Jungkook was in the middle of the bunch, an arm slung around Jimin's shoulders. He gave her a huge smile, grabbing a bottle of water and stopping beside her. He pressed the bottle against his head, the cold condensation feeling nice against his warm skin before untwisting the cap and downing about three quarters of the bottle in

huge gulps. He looked gorgeous. His skin flushed and clammy, his hair now wavy and damp with sweat but he was still buzzing with energy. He always was after practise. His adrenaline kept him going much longer than the other guys. "How was practise?" She asked, sneakily resting a hand on his back, her fingers playing under his shirt, stroking over his sweaty skin. He smiled, draining the rest of his water before grabbing another. "It was good. A few hiccups but we're getting there. Some of the new choreos are pretty intense. Should be good in front of ARMY though." He replied. He leaned into her, smelling her hair quickly. "I need to shower." He said, scratching at his sweaty hair. He made his way towards the stairs, clattering Jin over the head with his empty water bottle and giggling mischeviously as a cushion was flung at him. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, beckoning her to follow before hopping up them 3 at a time like he hadn't just spent the last few hours dancing his ass off. She paused for a minute, wondering what excuse to use so she could disappear. Namjoon walked over with a smile. "Go. I got you covered." He whispered, grabbing a bottle of water and turning back to the group. She grinned happily, heading for the stairs. She could hear the water running in one of the bathrooms and wondered if he'd already jumped into the shower. She paused at the top of the steps, looking from the bedrooms to the bathroom door. "Psst" She swung round, Jungkook was stood in the doorway of his bedroom with a smirk. "Hey. I thought you were showering" she smiled. He pulled her into his bedroom, pinning her against the wall, his fingers lacing through hers. "I will be." His lips were on hers straight away, his body pressing her against the wall so hard it made her shoulders hurt. "I missed you" he mumbled between kisses. "Couldn't stop thinking about you at practise." His lips skimmed down, sucking and nipping at her neck. Her breath caught, she wrenched one hand out of his grip to tangle in his messy hair. His smell was intoxicating, a gentle mix of his usual scent and the warm, wet kind of smell of someone who'd been active recently. The kind of pre-sweat smell. Very masculine and playing absolute havok with her hormones. "Couldn't stop thinking about last night. You. The way you moan. How you taste. The look on your face." He grunted into her neck. She felt a sharp stab as he bit a little harder at the tender skin above her collarbone. Each word he whispered collecting at her core, provoking an instant ache. "Need more." He whispered. He lifted his lips from her neck, his eyes meeting hers. She almost moaned. He looked aggressively gorgeous, his eyes darker, burning into her, lips slightly swollen and parted, the tip of his tongue running slowly across his bottom lip. He took her hand, pulling her towards the bathroom. She almost had to run to keep up with him, taking long strides, yanking at her arm like he didn't have time to waste. Once in the bathroom, he kicked the door shut, pulling her in for another mind melting kiss. She was so busy trying to keep up with his insistent tongue that she didn't even notice him unbuttoning her jeans until he was hooking his fingers in and pushing them over her hips. She moaned against his mouth in anticipation. He broke the kiss, kneeling down to yank her jeans and panties off her feet then trailing kisses up her leg, stopping to sink his teeth into her thigh. She squeeked, watching a cheeky smile pull at his lips. He stood, lifting her easily and plonking her on the bathroom counter. She gasped, the cold marble surface agaisnt her bare skin making her squirm although she really didn't have long to think about it. He was already pulling her legs apart, sinking down as his eyes stayed fixed on her. She watched, his eyes never leaving her face as he delivered a long, slow lick to her slit. He groaned, sounding almost relieved as he repeated the action, tongue sliding through her folds, the instant jolt of pleasure as he passed over her clit. "Oh my god." She breathed. There was

something inherently more sexy about actually watching him do it. She felt like she should look away but his gaze wouldn't let her. His big brown doe eyes holding her innocently while the action with his tongue was anything but. After another long lick, he stopped at her clit, circling the bundle of nerve endings with the tip of his tongue, still watching her watch him, the corners of his open mouth curling in an almost sinister smile. "Do you have any idea how fucking good you taste?" He groaned. She opened her mouth to reply but no words came out, she was rapt, watching him flatten out his tongue and lick hard, his lips closing around her clit in a way not unsimilar to the way he kissed her face. He moved one hand from her thigh, sitting back on his heels, his attention temporarily turning from her face as he lazily dragged his fingers up and down her pussy. She could see her wetness coating his index and middle finger as he stood up, presenting them to her. "Open" he whispered. Unable to do anything else through the haze of lust currently engulfing her, she obediently opened her mouth, lips closing around his fingers, tongue snaking round them as she experienced the tangy, slightly sweet taste of the arousal he provoked in her. He moaned, watching her suck his fingers deep into her mouth, her tongue soft and warm sending jolts of desire to his already aching cock. "Damn. I want to fuck you so bad." He panted. "Wanna feel your soft, hot pussy around my cock. Wanna screw you till you can't speak. Want it so bad." His voice was husky, his head dropping onto her shoulder as he battled ferociously with his need. "Please do" she croaked, her mouth dry. He whined, a small part of him thinking their first time together shouldn't be a lust fueled quicky in a bathroom with all his brothers downstairs. The rest of him couldn't have cared less if they were sat on the counter next to her. He was too far gone to notice. His stomach churned, feeling uncomfortable under the weight of his lust. "I can wait." He offered, although it was taking more restraint than he thought he possessed. "I don't wanna wait." She breathed. "I want you inside me." With that, his resolve snapped, his fingers already deftly battling with the button on his cargo pants before his brain had registered her response. He didn't even bother to take them off, he couldn't wait that long. He just undid them, and pulled his swollen, achy cock out of his boxers, hissing at the contact from his own hand. "Fuck" she gulped. He realised that she'd never actually seen him before, pausing with his long fingers curled around his shaft, he smirked, squeezing slightly, gently stroking his cock, ignoring the tingle of pleasure to focus on her reaction. In typical Jungkook fashion, he was an overachiever. His cock decently above average size without being obscene, deliciously thick, smooth, perfectly straight. Even his dick was pretty. If it wasn't for her overwhelming need for him to stop fucking about and nail her with it, she'd have been annoyed that this gorgeous, cute, devilish, cheeky contradiction of a man had literally not a single physical flaw. He was sculpted, proportioned and presented so perfectly that it stole her breath and at any other time, would have made her heart contract painfully with overwhelming affection. But she wasn't thinking with her heart. She was too wrapped up in her pussy, leaking, feeling so empty she could hardly stand it. "Gonna stand there jerking off or are you going to fuck me?" She hissed, past the point of impatience. His smirk grew. "Feeling needy are we?" He teased. She pouted pitifully and nodded at him with wide eyes. "But how can I fuck you when you look so cute?" He cooed, rubbing the head of his dick against her clit. She shivered, her fingers clenching against the edge of the marble counter top. "It's simple. You just stop being a brat and stick it in me." She huffed. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Oh that's it? Just slide my thick, hard cock into your cute, tight, greedy little hole hmm? Just stretch your wet little pussy

out, fuck you till you can't see straight." He whispered. She moaned and whined at the same time. "Koo...please. I'm gonna die." She cried, wiggling uncomfortably. He chuckled, making a mental note to see how far he could actually push her in the future. He already knew he was going to have a lot of fun with her neediness. "Relax baby. I've got this." He lined up, rubbing the head of his cock against her hole a couple of times, biting his lip as he felt her entrance contract, trying to suck him in. He pushed slowly, feeling her stretch to accommodate him, then the slick, soft heat engulfing him inch by inch. He groaned heavily, eyes fixed on her impossibly tight hole swallowing his length greedily. "Holy shit." He panted, pleasure exploding through him. "Fuck you feel amazing. Fuck." He wanted to savour it. He felt her fingers clench, balling his sweaty shirt in her hands. "Oh god" she whined, wriggling deperately. The stationary pressure of his cock buried deep inside her was making her crazy. The slight burning stretch, the feeling of fullness. She needed him to move. Her hands gripped at his hips, pushing back. "Don't tease me" she panted. He leaned in, running his nose along her jaw, inhailing deeply, his lips finding her ear. "What do you need Jagi? Slow?" He withdrew painfully slowly, allowing her to feel every bit of him against her sensative walls. "Or hard?" He snapped his hips forward, driving into her mercilessly. She grunted, a stab of achy pain as he hit something deeper than she expected. "Hard." She hissed. He bit his lip, swallowing his own moan, pulling out of her. "Jump down" he instructed, taking her hand and helping her to slide off the marble counter. He kissed her softly before turning her round, pushing against her mid back until she bent over the counter. He groaned, eyes glued as she presented her ass to him. He bit his lip, running his hands over her soft, perfect skin before finding a home on her hips. He positioned himself, her hips giving him the leverage he needed to pull her back sharply as he thrust into her, his cock slamming roughly into her. He groaned, head falling back, a shock of delicious pleasure bursting through him. He fucked her like he was on a timer, relentlessly drilling his dick into her, the lewd slap of his thighs hitting her bare skin permiated the room, drowning out the sound of the still running shower. Her body banging agaisnt the counter top repeatedly as though he was trying to fuck her through the damn thing. He reached up, curling her hair around his hand and pulling her head back, looking at her in the mirror. Her cheeks flushed, mouth agape, brow furroughed, eyes heavy as she bounced around helplessly with every steady thrust. Her sweaty hands slid uselessly over the marble surface, finding no purchase. "You ok? " He grunted. She nodded rapidly. "Don't stop" she hissed. He pulled on her hair sharply, forcing her upright. "Kiss me" he panted. She turned her head, his lips hungrily attacking hers, moaning lustfully into her mouth as he ground his hips agaisnt her ass, his cock still buried to the hilt inside her. "Fuck. So good" he growled, one hand snaking round her waist to play with her clit. She yelped, pushing back, grinding desperately on his cock. He grit his teeth, his expression almost angry as he rapidly rubbed at her clit. His toes were curling inside his sneakers, his orgasm threateningly close. He needed her to cum. Quickly. "Fuck. Love this pussy. So good." He babbled, incoherently. She whined deperately, her head falling back against his shoulder as she sucked in a sharp breath. He felt her walls clench around his cock, felt her muscles tighten and almost sighed with relief, letting go of his restraint, the rapid pulsating of her pussy pushing him over the edge. He came hard, still pistoning his hips deliriously as he spilled what felt like everything he had inside her. He slowed his thrusting, the obscene squelching sound coming from her sloppy cunt only heightening his pleasure. "Fuck" he repeated, stilling his movement, clinging to her weakly.

She looked dazed. Her eyes not fully shut but clearly not actually looking at anything. She panted deperately, trying to regain some oxygen. He braced himself even though his legs felt like jelly, taking the majority of her weight. He nuzzled into her neck, carefully pulling himself out of her, shuddering at the friction against his overly sensative cock. "That was..." He sighed, not actually having a word. "Delicious." She hummed, a smile tugging at her lips. He chuckled and nodded. "Very very." He held her for a few minutes, feeling his heart rate calm and his breathing return to normal, enjoying the blissful afterglow, nuzzling and kissing her affectionately as the lust died down and was replaced with an overwhelming softness for her. She was completely still, breathing shallow and he actually wondered for a second if she'd fallen asleep. "Still with me?" He whispered. She smiled immediately. "Mmm hmm. Just...floating." she sighed. He grinned, knowing the feeling well. "I should shower. We'll be ordering food soon." He murmured, kissing her neck gently. She whined in protest but the sudden growling of her stomach told her he was right. "I know." She said sullenly, peeling herself out of his warm, cosy arms. "Gimme two minutes to clean up then I'll go so you can shower." She sighed, untangling her underwear from her jeans. She washed up quickly, checking her make up in the mirror and fixing the smudges before pulling her hair up. It was too mussed to leave it down now and she couldn't be bothered straightening it again. She made her way downstairs shortly after, leaving Jungkook in the shower although every step away from him felt painful and unnecessary. Some of the guys were still in their rooms, cleaning or getting changed. She headed into the kitchen, stealing a cold Sprite before collapsing on the sofa in the lounge. She sighed, wriggling her toes, the after affects of what had just happened still not fully gone. Her legs still felt shaky. She could feel a dull ache across her thighs where they'd smashed into the marble edge of the counter top repeatedly. She smiled. Yes it was slightly strange but she liked the thought of it bruising. A tangible reminder of what had happened. She bit her lip, feeling heat rise into her cheeks as she stared into space, deep in thought. She'd just had sex with Jungkook. Giggles swelled in her chest. It was so surreal. She didn't understand how she'd gone from pining for him to this. She suddenly missed him desperately even though she'd only been away from him for minutes.

[cosmiclatte28]

Sleeping Aid (Yuta x you)

Inspired from seeing a sleeping aid in the supermarket and I wonder just how comfy it is to have Yuta in bed beside you. PLUS OML HIS LONG HAIR 😍😍😍

tags : @neopalette @yutahoes @2-3-t-i @ailoveyuta

“Love, what's taking you so long?” You look up to the sky that's still bright despite the clock running to evening time. Spring is here and the sun is setting longer. Your boyfriend left you early today after breakfast and told you he'll be back soon. But the question is what is he doing that he's not back yet?!

You pace around the room as you talk with him on the phone, “Ah sorry honey, I got a bit of a problem here but everything's fine and I am already on my way home. Don’t worry!” He reassures you from the other end of the phone and you only sigh in relief.

“Alright, if you're okay, then I'll just wait for you here.” You smile as your finger trace the cute anniversary picture hung on the wall.

“Yes, see you darling!” your man presses a kiss to the phone and you hum a goodbye.

“Love you, Yuta,” you send a flying kiss too and the call ends.

While you wait for Yuta to come back home, you put in some laundry to wash and start to cook dinner. It's a pasta night for tonight! Yuta has been missing pasta but he insisted to not eat pasta if you're not the one cooking. You were away last week due to business and he's also busy with comeback.

After putting the spaghetti in the water and making the sauce, you note that there's a little bit of time for you to wash up. So, into the hot shower you go!

The fresh fragrance of cherry blossom soap that fluffs into thick leather sticks to your body. You want to have a bubble bath but you’re afraid Yuta comes.

Your instinct was right, the moment you finish your shower and turn the stove off the door notifies someone unlocking the door and there you see your boyfriend in his ethereal long hair.

“Yuta-" you cannot finish your sentence. Your hand shake as your man comes to your face and smile to you.

“Like it?” he plays with his now long blonde hair.

You nod as your finger touches his frail long hair that you love so much. You'd rather go bald if that means Yuta can have the long hair forever.

You love his long hair, more than anything but sometimes comeback concepts didn’t allow him to do that so he had to cut them short. But here he is! Back with his extensions.

“Like it? I love it babe!” you hug him tight while still playing with his hair that touches his neck.

“Nice! It was a long work but I'm glad you like it.” He picks you up to kiss your lips and you chuckle when he puts you down.

“So, I see pasta there! You make my request!!” he walks to change his clothes quick and washes his hands before helping you set the plates.

“can we have wine tonight?” Yuta pauses midair when he takes out the wine glass.

You glance to the wine rack and nod “Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow. It's Saturday sweetie… I hope you don’t have practice." You take out one red wine and settle down on the opposite chair of Yuta

“I don’t, instead I am planning to sleep tonight.” He smiles while opening the bottle and pouring some red liquid into your glass.

“Itadakimas!” you both say before digging into your meals.

--

“That was amazing, delicious!” yuta sips on his glass while running his eyes to the now clean table

You grin “I think your craving is satisfied already?”

He nods “Yes, oh gosh I miss you so much!” his free thoughts are roaming around his head. Thank the red wine for helping him be more open to you.

You only drink a glass, because you're not really in the mood tonight. Yuta has finished one and a half and he looks tipsy.

“How was the comeback?” both of you are already on your bed cuddling under the thick heavy blanket which keeps you and Yuta warm.

He inhales your scent and smiles “It was crazy tiring but I am so glad we did well in Japan.”

He looks at you now and pulls you closer to his body warmth “What about you? How is your work?”

You sigh “A bit tiring. I couldn’t sleep well lately.”

“Must be because I am not there,” Yuta teases you and you only scrunch your nose “Ew yeah must be that! Or because someone decided to mess with my pills.” You groan when you remember opening your suitcase to find the pills gone.

Yuta bites his lips, so you are still looking for the sleeping pills.

“Isn’t it because the room you stayed on is cold?” Yuta traces random circles on your bare arm and you shake your head

“I need my Melatonin but they're not there. Plus I didn’t have time to buy them.” You close your eyes in frustration and Yuta just hugs you there calmly.

“Shush, there there” he calms you down when you start to tremble and your body shakes.

“I am sorry, I tried to not drink them anymore but I can’t.” you bury your face on his chest and follow his breathing rhythm

“You can do this, slowly okay. You should stop taking the pills though they're not dangerous. I don’t want you to mess your hormone more.” He is already slurring his words probably on a slumber.

“Don’t leave me awake alone Yuta! I will panic if I cannot sleep and notice how hard I am trying to sleep but failed.” You clung unto his shirt and hide yourself more into his body if possible.

Yuta chuckles and possessively hugs you close, his hand rakes your hair and his other free one holds your back close to him “Shush don’t worry about anything. Relax and breathe with me. I am here and the blanket is keeping us safe from danger. I am also here to hold you til morning comes. Now close your eyes.” He kisses your eyes softly and presses a long deep kiss on your lips.

“Do you want some wine maybe to help you sleep?” he suddenly asks and you shake your head “No, or else I will use that for Melatonin replacement and be an addict. No.” you pout and Yuta pinches your cheek “Cutie. Now come on Yuta needs his cutie to sleep so we can both have fun tomorrow.” He whispers on your ear and helps you find your breathing pace back normal.

“I love you sweetheart, don’t worry about silly things.” He hums a soft lullaby to drive you to slumber and he succeeds

You didn’t know if it was the wine, his lullaby, or just his present that makes you calm and be able to have the best sleep in weeks. Whichever that is, you should do this more often for the sake of your sleeping schedule.

end

oh how i love Yuta and his new hair, also omg i want him as my sleeping aid :”)

[btsficsforthehumble]

Rapture

Pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: Mafia au; angst, fluff

Warnings: Injury, medical terms, blood, sexual insinuations

WC: 2.2k

A/N: This is for the ficcafe dialogue prompt event! The three italicized lines are the ones chosen from this event --- thanks to the admins for creating such a great list! I really love this scenario and am thinking about making it into a larger story if there’s interest… so let me know if you want to see more!

----

“Stop screaming, it’s just me.”

You sag with relief when you recognize Yoongi’s voice. You had woken up to the sound of a large crash, from what you assume now was caused by Yoongi navigating your dark apartment. Your relief only disappears for a second, however. If he was coming to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, something was wrong.

You scoot your butt to the edge of your bed to reach your side table tamp, pulling the string to allow soft light to illuminate the room. This allows you to see Yoongi fully, not just the dark figure he had been seconds ago.

The sight that awaits your eyes makes you take a sharp inhale. Yoongi was leaning against your dresser, hunched over slightly, still in his tactical gear from what you assume was his job tonight. What had caused your surprise though wasn’t that, but the large gash that travelled from his hip bone to right above the inside of his knee. It must have been not too deep, seeing as he was able to make his way all the way here, but was still actively bleeding --- you could see the dark metallic liquid reflecting the light, standing out against the black of his cargo pants.

You immediately jump up to grab the rather large first aid kit you keep in your bathroom. You weren’t a stranger to patching up the boys after a particularly dangerous job. Usually though, they weren’t stumbling around your apartment in the middle of the night, but calling you over to one of their apartments.

The truth was, you were no doctor --- or even nurse for that matter. You were a waitress. After you made friends with the seven boys who would frequent the small restaurant in which you worked, you learned that they were members of the local Bangtan gang. You had seen how they roughly patched each other up after they got hurt, fearing going to the hospital to where they could be linked to the various illegal activities that they participated in. So, you took it upon yourself to learn rudimentary first aid skills to help them when they were injured --- such as right now.

You pull out a bottle of alcohol, gauze, needle and surgical thread from your kit after washing your hands thoroughly. Yoongi was still putting his weight on your furniture, easing the pressure off of his injured leg. He had a grimace on his face, obviously in pain from the large gash.

You hurry over, lifting his opposite arm up and around your neck to allow you to support some of his weight. Slowly hobbling to the edge of your bed, you assist him in sitting on the mattress where he could rest while you could fix him up.

Once you have him positioned comfortably, well --- as comfortably as he could get, you sink to your knees in front of him to be able to be close enough to the wound to work on it. First, you realize you would have to cut back some of the fabric of his pants to prevent contamination and allow you to get a clear view of the full cut. Grabbing the medical scissors, you begin to but at his pants, but careful to not sacrifice his modesty too much. Honestly, you don’t think you’d be able to focus very well with him exposed anyway.

After you finish, you look up to see his face, wanting to make sure he was still comfortable and prepared to handle the pain the alcohol would surely bring. Seeing his frown turn into a knowing smile once your eyes meet, you hurry to sterilize the cut. You two didn’t need words to understand each other, same as always.

You lift the open bottle of isopropyl alcohol to hover above his thigh, and begin to carefully pour just enough to cover the wound, moving from the top to the bottom of the gash. At its contact, Yoongi lets out a hiss and grips your bedsheets in both hands. He’s felt the sting a million times, but it never fails to make him tense up in pain.

“I know. Sorry,” you give at his tense reaction.

Putting away the alcohol, you thread your needle. Checking in with him again, he gives you a tense nod. You begin stitching him up, knotting the first stitch at his hip and traveling down his thigh. At the first stitch, you feel him jump slightly from the prick.

“Stay still. The more you move, the more this is going to hurt,” you warn.

He lets out a low grunt of acknowledgement at your words. He knew you were right.

You put your full focus back into your task, wanting to make sure the stitches weren’t excessively crude. In the process, you don’t notice you getting your body shifting to be more in between his spread legs than in front of them. He notices though.

He keeps his eyes trained on you as you work. Partially to keep himself distracted from the needle going in and out of his skin, but also partially because you looked so beautiful bathed in the soft light your lamp was casting on you. He had woken you up from your sleep, so you had a case of slight bedhead and puffy eyes --- a completely unfiltered version of yourself. After looking at your furrowed brows and slight pout, obviously lost in your task, he lets his gaze drop to your body.

You were wearing a large, oversized white tee-shirt and black sleeping shorts that were smaller than anything he’d seen you in before. Not wanting to make himself think dirtily about you while you were currently in between his thighs --- he’d surely get hard and then he’d feel like a complete asshole --- he slides his gaze back up to your torso.

Wait a second… your shirt looks an awful lot like the one that he had been searching for a few weeks ago. The shirt was one of his favorites, and he was irritated when he couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Is that… is that my shirt?”

You snap your head up at his words, take a look down to remind yourself of what you were wearing, and snap your head back up again, but this time with an owlish look. Of course the one night Yoongi stumbles in your door you are wearing the t-shirt you had stolen from his room while you were over playing card games with Jungkook and Taehyung. You all were drinking, and you accidentally spilled the contents of your glass right down the front of your top. You had gotten up to steal one of the boys shirts from their rooms, but you knew Yoongi had this shirt in his drawer. It always looked so comfortable; plus, you thought it would probably have his masculine citrusy scent. You were right, on both accounts.

Now, you were embarrassed having been caught red-handed. “May... maybe?” The heat in your cheeks didn’t help your situation.

He raises his eyebrows at your answer, and you could see the faint trace of a smile on his lips.

“You know, I looked for a whole week for that shirt. And now, come to find out, it was all the way here in your thieving hands this whole time,” he gruffly says, in his special Yoongi way. But you could tell from his tone he wasn’t actually mad.

“Thought it needed a change of environment, that’s all,” you answer cheekily. You resume his stitches where you had left off.

He just shakes his head, watching you for another moment. “It looks better on you anyways.”

You blush at his words, but don’t look up from your task. At this point, you were nearly done --- your stitching had grown faster with the practice the boys kept giving you.

You tie off the last stitch, and stand up wiping the dust of the floor off your knees. You collect the used supplies, depositing them in the bathroom to deal with tomorrow. When you come back in, you find Yoongi examining your work. He said nothing, apparently satisfied.

“Come on, let me clean you up,” you suggest as you walk over to help him stand from your bed. He still has blood, now dried, in the area around his wound. He leans on you again, standing with a grunt. Hobbling once more, you go to the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet. You make quick work of getting some sterile cotton pads wet to allow you to swipe away the blood.

You are gentle as you wipe, not wanting to upset the already angry skin any more. He watches your face as you do so, endeared at your care and concern.

Once you finish, it occurs to him that his pants still have a giant gaping hole in them --- oh, and part of his boxers too. You are quick to turn around, heading straight for the dresser Yoongi had been leaning on earlier. You have a small stash of men’s boxers for when you sleep sometimes. Luckily, Yoongi, being slim, would fit into the pairs you had on hand. Grabbing the one on top, you return to the bathroom.

He raises his brows at you, confused at your actions, but understands once you toss the boxers at him.

“Here. I don’t have pants that’ll fit, but those should work at least,” you offer.

“Thanks.”

With a nod, you turn around shutting the door behind you. Oh, he probably wants a clean shirt too --- so you do the first thing you think of, taking his shirt right off your back. You crack open the door, only enough to fit your hand with the shirt through, in offering. A beat later, you feel the tee being pulled from your loose grasp.

Yoongi feels a spark of excitement knowing you were half naked on the other side of the door, but quickly tries to shove it away. Not the time, he reminds himself.

Meanwhile, you pull out another old shirt from your drawer for yourself to wear, and go get a glass of water from the kitchen for Yoongi. You had some painkillers for him, that would hopefully allow him to sleep.

While you are placing the pills next to the glass on your bedside, you hear the door creak open. You rush over to help him walk, wrapping your arm around his waist. You head towards your bed, already set on having him sleep there while you take the couch. He looks down at you confused when he sees the direction you’re taking him, however.

Noticing, you tell him, “I was thinking you take my bed tonight. It’s better than the couch for your leg.”

Meanwhile, he had been planning on ending up on your old couch this entire time. “It’s fine, I already barged in your house for you to sew me up, I can take the couch,” he says. “I promise I’ll be okay.”

But you weren’t taking no for an answer tonight. “Min Yoongi, sit your ass down. You have a huge gash in your thigh, you’re taking the bed.”

He could tell from your tone there was no arguing. He still felt guilty. And, he realized, what he really wanted was for you to just stay with him.

With fake nonchalance, he suggests just that. “Let’s compromise. You’re bed’s big enough for two, we can both use it.”

You eye him for a few seconds, wanting to gauge what that meant. If you let your imagination run wild, that could be a loaded suggestion. You debate in your head for a second, talking yourself down. It was late, and he had never been anything but your friend. His intentions probably were completely pure; and you felt embarrassed for even thinking anything more could be going on.

You sigh, not giving him an answer right away. “Take these,” you point to the medicine, placing your hands on your hips, waiting for him to follow your order.

He dutifully does so, and looks at you expectantly. You hadn’t told him your decision.

“Scoot over.”

He quirks his lip at your command, amused at your delivery of your answer. But, he does scoot over, allowing you to slide your body underneath the sheets. You quickly reach for your lamp, and encase your room in darkness once again.

Tense from having Yoongi in your bed with you, you can’t help but toss and turn for a bit. Meanwhile, he was deathly still. This continues for several minutes, with you not being able to settle.

You flip over again, but this time Yoongi grunts, rolling on his good side, sticking an ankle between your legs and throwing an arm over your hip. You tense immediately at the unexpected, but not unwelcome, contact.

Yoongi’s breath fans across your ear. “Stop moving. You’re driving me nuts.” His voice was low and gravely from sleepiness, and was very sexy. You were glad at that moment he couldn’t see your face, because your eyes had to be the size of saucers.

And, to your surprise, not soon after you were able to fall into a deep slumber that exceeded your normal, lonely nights.

[hollandbaby]

roommates - t.h smut

a/n: um so i haven’t written in a long time pls be kind. this is just a 4.9k one shot based on how i’m feeling, sexually frustrated, but unfortunately I’m not in lockdown with tom so cannot have sex with him. also I’m tipsy. AND feedback is much appreciated

warnings; smut, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, choking, biting, scratching, super long intro

You had lived with your lifetime best friend, Tom, for just over a year now, alongside his best friends Harrison and Tuwaine and his younger brother Harry. There was never a dull moment in the house, even when Tom’s away filming the other boys provide just as much entertainment. You’re used to spending lots of time with the boys, but when it’s announced lockdown was in place, it took a toll on everyone. Tom is unable to work which is a benefit considering he’s allowed to actually rest finally, plus he’s around a lot more which is nice. Harrison is always practicing his juggling which is entertaining until he breaks your favourite lamp. Tuwaine and Harry tends to keep to themselves, mostly playing video games or working from home. But boy was the house becoming messy. 

“Alright, who’s underwear are these and why are they on the living room floor!?” You shout to the house, picking up the pants by the broom you had in your hand.

“Whadda they look like?” Shouts Harry, most likely on his laptop editing something.

“Grey Calvin’s but I know all of you own at least one pair so it’s not very helpful!”

You move to put them in the laundry basket by the washing machine, carrying on with your cleaning by sweeping the kitchen floor. Tom emerges from the bathroom, in just a pair of grey sweats and a towel wrapped around his neck, you try not to let yourself get distracted but it’s hard when you can see a single drop of water make its way down his toned, bronzed torso.

“Sorry, love, I think they may be mine,” he chuckles as he goes to fill the kettle for a cup of tea. He leans against the kitchen island, drying off his hair with his towel.

“What the fuck are they doing in the communal living room?” You ask, laughing as well. Living with boys may be hard sometimes due to the mess and the fact they’re all super dumb, but it’s so endearing and you have good times.

“I dunno, I probably threw them at one of the boys as a joke.” Tom giggles to himself but you roll your eyes.

“Well next time you throw your dirty laundry at someone pick it up after, doofus.” You chuckle, walking past Tom to head to your room for your wash bag before going for a shower. You turn the shower on and start to undress. You found yourself thinking about Tom, and the way he looked after his shower earlier, his wet curly hair all floppy and cute, water droplets falling onto his broad chest and toned abs. You’d never really thought about him sexually before, obviously he’s an attractive man and you’ve been close friends with him since you were kids, he knows you better than anyone, but you’d never realised just how hot he is. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex in over a month due to lockdown or maybe it’s because you’ve been able to spend more time with Tom recently, but there’s a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach that stretches all the way down to your core. You bite your lip, stepping under the hot water, steam filling the bathroom as you try to wash away your sins.

You’re cooking dinner for everyone, Harrison, Harry and Tuwaine playing some game in the living room and Tom is just watching, laughing along with them. Tom looks over the sofa to you, watching your movements for a second before getting up off the sofa and walking to the kitchen.

“Need any help, darlin’?” He asks, as you chop up some vegetables.

“You can chop up some onions with me?” You smile at him, and he gets a feeling in the pit of his stomach. You both continue chopping and cooking the meal, Tom drinking beer and you wine as you both dance around the kitchen and giggle and sing with each other. You call the boys into the dining area, serving up dinner and grabbing drinks for all the boys. As you turn from the fridge to place the beers on the counter, Tom is already stood behind you, making you jump. He grabs your waist to steady you, and you’re grateful you didn’t drop any of the bottles.

“Sorry, love,” he chuckles as your face heats up, a mixture of the fact Tom’s warm hands are still on your waist and you just had a close call to a very messy and classy clean up.

“S’okay, I’m just glad I didn’t drop any of these! The boys would kill me,” you pop open all the bottles, attempting to grab them along with your bottle of wine AND glass.

“Woah there, darling, I’ll grab those for you,” Tom takes three of the bottles from you, letting out a breathy laugh at your disgruntled facial expression, your bottom lip slightly jutted out and hair falling in your face.

“Thank you,” you smile and pick up your wine and glass, following Tom’s lead back to the table.

The boys are all chatting away, dishing up their dinners as you and Tom place their beers down in front of them.

“Thank you so much for cooking, Y/N, we’ll wash up.” Harrison says, smiling at you.

“Will we?” Tuwaine chimes in, looking confused.

“Bro shut up.” Harry says, you roll your eyes but you’re laughing alongside them.

“Well maybe after dinner, and after Haz, Harry and Tuwaine wash up, we can do something together?” You suggest, sipping your wine before munching some more.

“Sounds good. What did you have in mind?” Asks Tom, eager to spend some time with you.

“Well we could all play some card games or a board game?”

And that’s how you end up drunkenly giggling at 1AM over monopoly.

“How the fuck did I get go to jail again?!”

“Unlucky Baz man, looks like you’re in jail again,” you giggle, moving his figurine to the jail space.

“How are you doing so well at this game Y/N? It’s like you’re the monopoly mastermind,” Harrison asks, slurring the M’s slightly.

“I dunno man I used to play a lot with my family, plus it’s a game of chance.”

“Well it’s a fucking stupid game of chance,” Harry chimes in, pouting at the fact he has to miss a go.

“Shut up, dickhead, you love this game,” Tom grabs Harry by his shoulders and puts him in a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“Tom!” Harry exclaims, thrashing around. He kicks the board, knocking all the houses and hotels and cards everywhere.

“Harry!” shouts Harrison, clearly angry at the fact he’s lost his place and cannot for the life of him remember where it was.

“Oh my god you’re all idiots,” you laugh, Tuwaine exclaiming a “hey don’t put me in that category with them!”

You finish the last gulp of your wine before attempting to stand up to grab another bottle. You steady yourself on Tom’s shoulder before heading over to the fridge. You can feel his eyes on you as you pour yourself some more wine, but he quickly looks away when you turn back around. The lads are all laughing together on the floor, sipping beers and being stupid.

“What’re you all laughing at?” You ask, smiling, as you go to join them on the floor, Tom’s hand gently grabbing yours to help you sit.

“Harry’s suggesting we play never have I ever,” Tuwaine laughs.

“It wasn’t just me! Harrison suggested it I just said sure why not!”

“God you’re all a bunch of kids. Alright, are we playing or not?” You ask, getting confident from the booze.

“I know I suggested it but the room is spinning so much right now I think I’m gonna throw up,” Harrison states, hiccuping.

“Wow, good one genius. Alright, let’s get you to bed. Night all,” Tuwaine gets up, picking Haz up in the process and wrapping his arm around his waist, guiding Harrison to his room before making his way to his own.

“Aaaand I’d rather go to bed than stay up for whatever weird shit is gonna happen between you two,” Harry says standing up and chugging the rest of his beer, “peace out.”

“And then there were two,” Tom chuckles, starting to pack away the long forgotten monopoly board. You help him, placing pieces in their respective compartments and giggling with each other.

“So how about that game of never have I ever?” You ask biting your lip. You look at Tom to find he’s already looking at you, cheeks flushed and a curl falling into his face.

“Sure,” he chuckles breathily, “I’ll just grab another beer.” You smile to yourself as you watch Tom walk to the kitchen, biting your lower lip as you realise you shouldn’t be staring at his ass as he walks away. Tom returns to the living room, you’ve moved onto the sofa now, put some music on and your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. He plops down on the sofa next to you and smiles, taking a swig of his beer.

“Alright. Never have I ever pissed my pants from laughing,” Tom chuckles to himself as you slap his chest.

“That was ONE time and it was a TINY amount!” You huff, taking a swig of your drink. You smirk as you pull your legs up onto the sofa, turning to face Tom. “Never have I ever tried to impress a girl by doing a backflip but it ending up awfully badly and I broke my wrist.”

“For fucks sake,” Tom throws his head back and groans, taking a swig of his drink. “She still went on a date with me though, I assume out of pity. Okay, ummm, never have I ever had sex in a park.” He’s smirking this time, knowing full well you definitely had.

“I was 16 and fucking stupid. Guy was a douche anyway. Okay never have I ever, been walked in on.” You laugh at this one. Harrison loved telling the story of the time he walked in on Tom and some girl he’d brought home from a bar.

“For fucks sake, I wish everyone would stop bringing that one up.” He drinks, keeping eye contact with you. “Never have I ever had sex with a roommate,” he licks his lips, watching as you take another sip of your wine. “How’s that even happen?”

“You know the story, Tom, I had to move out because of how awkward it got.” You frown at him, these never have i evers we’re getting too real. “Okay, never have I ever had phone sex.” You watch Tom roll his eyes and take a swig of his beer.

“You mean to tell me you’ve never had phone sex?”

“No, what’s the point when I could just have sex with someone?”

“What if you’re far away from someone you’re dating and can’t go see them? I was working on set you know.”

“I know that! These are to try and get you drunk Mr Holland that’s the aim of the game,” you smile at him, “your turn.”

“Never have I ever,” he trails off, lips pursing as he thinks of one to say, “never have I ever had a threesome.”

You pause for a second, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinting wondering if he knew you’d had a threesome before or if he was just curious. Either way, you take a sip of your drink.

“Now, this I’ve got to hear,” Tom’s smirking, an eyebrow raised as he waits for the story.

“I thought you knew! Oh, god. So it was my first year of uni, I was fresh out of a bad relationship, exploring my options etc you know. I start having sex with this guy regularly, just causal stuff no feelings involved. One day he comes round, then this girl calls him and he asks if she can come for drinks too. Obviously I say yes because I’m already tipsy and open to anything. She comes round, we end up drinking 3 bottles of wine each and it just, happened.” You look to Tom, after taking a sip of your wine, your cheeks flushed but it’s nothing compared to the look of shock on Tom’s face. He’s aroused at the idea but he won’t let you know that. His mouth is agape, then he licks his lips and smirks.

“Wow who knew you were crazy like that?”

You slap his chest, “shut up! I bet you’ve been up to some crazy stuff. I’m surprised you’ve not had a threesome yet.”

“I’m not the type of man to share, darling.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Besides, it was a foursome.”

“Ahhh and there it is.” You roll your eyes and smile, finishing off your drink. “Be a darling and grab my bottle from the fridge please, Tommy?” He tuts at your demand, nevertheless standing and going to grab your bottle. He grabs himself another beer too. You smile and thank him as he fills your glass, putting the bottle on the floor in case you need a refill. “I miss sex. That’s the worst part about all this shit.”

“Oh, totally agree. Stupid lockdown.” Tom sighs, sitting back down on the sofa next to you. You place your glass on the coffee table, turning to face Tom fully, resting your arm on the back of the sofa.

“What if we had sex?”

Tom spits his drink out, coughing and spluttering, getting his spat beer all over his white t shirt. “Shit. Um, what?”

“C’mon, we’re both adults with needs, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just a one time thing, a favour, to release all the sexual frustrations we’re both clearly experiencing since we don’t have dick or pussy on tap at the moment.” You pick your wine back up, taking a long swig before continuing. “I could just give you a blowie and we can go our separate ways.”

“Y/N, we live together. You said last time you did something like this it didn’t end well.”

“That was only a bad idea with my past roommate because he became obsessed with me after. Tom, we don’t have to do it it was just a suggestion.” You don’t know if it’s because the alcohol has given you a load of confidence or if it’s because you’ve not had sex in a long time but what you do know is that Tom is very attractive, especially when he runs his hand through his floppy curls, his white shirt tightening around his bicep. You lick your lips as your eyes rake up and down his body. You meet his brown eyes, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

“Conditions?”

“We can do whatever you want. My only condition is, we need a safe word. Actually, that and we probably shouldn’t tell the others what happened.”

“Agreed. Safe word can be pineapple.”

“Pineapple?” You laugh, leaning closer to Tom. You can smell his cologne, and it’s absolutely divine.

“I dunno. It was the first thing that came to mind.” He leans closer into you as well. “What’re you into?” His eyes flick to your lips and back up to your eyes.

“Hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, spanking, call me babygirl or a good girl and I’m a goner. You?”

“Same, but call me Tommy or baby. Maybe daddy as well, depends how rough we’re going I guess.”

You put your glass back on the coffee table after finishing your wine, moving to straddle Tom’s lap. “Okay, Tommy, looks like we’re doing this.” You move in, testing the waters, eyes flickering between Tom’s and his lips. You can already feel the heat in your core and the wetness in your panties, your thin shorts barely protecting you from the feeling of Tom’s arousal in his grey sweats. He caves first, crashing his lips against yours and moving them oh so deliciously against your own. Your eyes instantly shut, your hands combing through his hair before gripping onto his brunette curls. Tom lets his empty bottle drop onto the sofa, long forgotten as his own hands move to your hips. His tongue experiments by licking your top lip, asking for entrance which you more than gladly grant him. Your tongue dances against his, your hips subconsciously grinding against his already hard cock. You let out a rough, breathy moan into his mouth, Tom’s hands moving to your ass, feeling the skin that your shorts don’t cover. He pulls back, panting and lips glossy and red.

“Your room or mine?”

“Whichever’s closest.” You kiss him again, letting out a slightly startled noise as he stands, picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands gripping onto his shoulders whilst his are gripping your ass. You peck his lips, kissing down his neck as he walks you to his room. It’s closest to the living room and nearest to the bathroom so it’s a win win for you. You open Tom’s door for him, he almost drops you when you do but luckily you grip back onto him, accidentally scratching his back. Tom lets out a hiss, but it’s not with pain, more so pleasure at the feeling of your nails digging into him. It makes him wonder how amazing your nails will feel scratching down his back while he’s fucking into you. He throws you on his bed, and you briefly note how clean and tidy his room is considering he’s so chaotic. Tom removes his (slightly damp with beer) shirt and is on top of you in an instant, his lips meeting yours again in a messy kiss, teeth and tongue in the mix. You wrap your legs around his waist, his hips grinding down into your own as your hands rake through his hair, tugging on tufts as you sloppily kiss. He pulls away, his lips moving down to your neck and nipping and sucking there. You let out a moan, your eyes rolling back as Tom’s mouth works wonders on you. Your hips buck up into his and his hand moves from the bed to your body, trailing down your neck and chest to the hem of your vest top, tugging on it as a signal for you to take it off. You listen, moving your arms down to the hem to rip your top off, Tom instantly moving down your body, his lips kissing your chest before his hand moves round to your back and unclasps your bra. He pulls it off you, his mouth making its way to your nipple as his eyes look up into yours. You scrunch your eyebrows in pleasure, biting your bottom lip as you moan lowly. You don’t even notice Tom’s hand trailing down your body until it reaches your clothed pussy, your hips instantly jerking up to meet his hand. A mixture of Tom’s tongue on your nipple and his fingers rubbing your clit through your shorts is giving you a feeling you’ve not felt in a while. Yes you’ve been getting yourself off but there’s something so different about someone else’s touch that feels so fucking amazing.

“Do you know how fucking hot you look in these shorts, baby? I’ve wanted to rip them off you all evening.” Tom moans out, he can feel your wetness through the material.

“Do it, then.” You smirk, but your breath is hoarse and raspy. You let out a gasp as Tom practically rips your shorts from your body, along with your underwear. He wastes no time moving down your body, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses on your scorching skin. Hiking your legs up so your feet are flat on the bed, he kisses your hips, then down your left thigh, as your hands make their way to his hair. Tom looks up into your eyes as he licks closer and closer to your wet pussy, his mouth hovering over you, causing you to grind your hips up in an attempt to meet his tongue. He finally ends the torturous teasing, gently licking his tongue through your folds and to your clit, you throw your head back and let out a soft ‘oh, fuck’. Tom’s fingers make their way up your body, gently teasing your nipple as his tongue massages your clit, your hips meeting his movements as you let out small, breathy moans.

“Fuck, Tom, fingers please,” your voice is broken and still raspy, but Tom makes eye contact with you again and the moan you let out is much louder than before. You throw your head back again, writhing against him.

“What do want, baby girl? Hm? Want my fingers inside you?” His breath is cool against your warm skin, his eyes searching for yours.

“Yes!” You attempt to buck your hips up again but Tom’s hands hold them in place.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please, daddy!” Your voice is broken and your attempt to keep quiet is ineffective. Tom moves his right hand from your hip, his tongue returning back to your clit as he slowly pumps a finger into you, curling it up to reach your g spot. He has you writhing beneath him, adding another fingers stretching you out as his tongue laps at your clit, your hands grip his hair as you grind against his mouth, breathy moans escaping your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes roll to the back of your head, you figured Tom would be good in bed but, god, he was so much better than you expected.

“I’m close, Tommy,” he all but growls into your pussy at the nickname, fingers picking up speed as he sucks on your clit gently. One of your hands flies up to your face, biting down on your arm to stop yourself from letting out an extremely loud moan as you cum. Tom slows his movements, helping you ride out your high. He removes his fingers from you, looking into your eyes as he licks them clean. You bite your lip and let out a soft groan at the sight of him, pulling him up to you so you can kiss his lips, allowing your tongue to massage his. You can taste yourself on him, only making you moan into his mouth as you kiss. You pull on his sweats, pushing them down his thighs along w his boxers. Tom pulls them the rest of the way off and you roll onto him, pinning him to the bed with your thighs. Your lips never leaving his in a sloppy, wet, tipsy kiss. You’re overwhelmed by his senses, his hot skin, his sexy scent, his soft curls and the way his teeth occasionally nibble on your bottom lip. You start grinding your hips against Tom’s hard cock, his hands flying to your hips as you do so.

“You’re so fucking wet for me aren’t you, baby girl?” Tom growls against your lips, feeling your wetness on his skin.

You moan against his lips, nodding your head, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah, bedside table, 2nd drawer down.” You reach over him to the nightstand, retrieving a condom, opening it with your teeth before rolling it onto Tom’s cock. Tom lets out a hiss at the contact, throwing his head back and panting as your hand moves up and down him, before you lift up and slide down onto his cock. His hands instantly grab onto your ass, nails digging into the skin as you find a pace, adjusting to his size. He was bigger than you were expecting but, fuck, did it feel good. You pick up the pace, hips moving up and down as Tom’s hand moves from your ass cheek to your clit, using his middle finger to circle the bundle of nerves. He’s grunting with each move you make, and your head falls back as you continue riding him. He moves his other hand off your ass and brings it back down in a harsh slap, your skin jiggling and a sharp moan escaping your lips. He smirks up at you, your body dropping forward, hands moving to rest by his head as you keep the movements of your hips. He slaps your ass again, massaging the red skin there as you bite your lip, looking into his eyes. You reach your right hand to around his throat, gently squeezing. Something snaps in Tom at that, planting his feet on the bed to get leverage to thrust up into you, fucking you from underneath, he grabs a handful of your hair and fastens the pace of his fingers on your clit.

“Fuck, Tommy!” You moan, trying to keep quiet but it’s hard when he’s fucking you so good, the arch in your back allowing him to go deeper, creating a delicious feeling. “I want you to fuck me from behind.” You’re panting and your voice is quiet but Tom hears you loud and clear.

“Fuck, love, you’re so hot,” he pulls out, rolling you over onto your front, your arms reaching in front of you, chest on the bed as your knees widen and your ass is in the air, Tom slaps your ass as he moves behind you, sliding his hard cock between your fold and collecting your wetness before he thrusts back into you.

“Shit, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Another slap on your ass as he fucks into you, hands grabbing your hips for leverage.

“Yes, baby, keep fucking me like that!” You moan into the sheets. Tom reaches forward and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your back up against his torso, fucking up into you. His hand slides around to grip your throat as he continues fucking you, his lips leaving sloppy kisses on your neck and cheek. He nibbles on your ear lightly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. Tom’s other hand snakes it’s way around your waist down your body, his middle fingers circling your clit. Your head is resting on his shoulder, your hand coming round to pull on his hair as he continues fucking you, Tom’s grunts and groans right in your ear as his lips caress the skin there.

“So fuckin tight, baby, jesus,” Tom’s breath is hot on your neck leaving goosebumps all over your body as you moan at his words. “I want you to cum for me baby, can you do that?”

“Yes, Tommy, I’m so close,” you groan, but Tom pulls away completely. You’re shocked and disgruntled before you realise he’s throwing you on your back, spreading your thighs and thrusting back into you. You grab his shoulders, nails digging in as Tom fucks you, harder than before. Your moans are muffled by the skin of his shoulder, you bite down on his skin, sucking, most likely leaving a mark but you don’t care, too consumed with the fire in your stomach as your orgasm approaches.

“Rub my clit, please,” you breathe out, one of Tom’s hands moving from your thigh to between your legs, resuming his movements on your clit from before. He fucks you in a rhythm, your nails scratching down his back as he does so, Tom’s hair is falling in his face and tickling yours but you don’t care, he looks so hot like this, sweaty and panting above you. Your toes curl and your pussy clenches around him, his cock pounding into you, and it’s like nothing you’ve felt before.

“I’m gonna cum, Tommy!” You throw your head back, letting out a moan as Tom’s fingers rub your clit faster and he fucks you harder, his lips crashing against yours as you reach your high. Tom follows shortly after, sloppily thrusting into you as he cums in the condom. Tom collapses on top of you, your breathing steadying as you play with his hair. After a minute, he pulls out and discards of the condom, flopping onto the bed beside you, opening his arm to you so you can roll into his side.

“Well, that was ... wow,” you sigh contentedly. Your breathing is starting to slow down and a wave of exhaustion hits you. You rest your head on Tom’s bare chest, one of his fingers curling a piece of your hair around it.

“Oh, god yeah it was, something else.” He chuckles, pressing a light peck to your forehead.

“I should probably go to the bathroom then back to my room.” You sigh, you don’t want to move though. You’re absorbing Tom’s warmth and it feels so good. You roll off of his chest, pulling his t shirt from off the floor and sliding it on. Tom sits up as you go to collect your things, “you could stay in here tonight? I mean, sex isn’t the only thing I miss.” His face is flush and he smiles sheepishly at you. You smile back and bite your lip, leaning back onto the bed to peck his nose before heading off to the bathroom. Tom thinks you’ve gone to bed, sighing in defeat and flopping back against his sheets. You go to clean up, making your way back to Tom’s room but not before grabbing another 2 bottles of beer first. You return to his room, smiling as you hand him a bottle. He laughs at you as he opens his beer, taking a sip before opening his arms to you, inviting you to sit with him on his bed. He’s got his boxers back on, duvet loosely wrapped around his hips, shifting while he moves. You sit back on the bed with him, taking a sip of your own beer. You both laugh and chat until you finish your drinks, lying down again and falling sleep curled up in Tom’s arms, his hand gently massaging your scalp as he places occasional pecks on your forehead. You realise that maybe this won’t be the last time as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[bbugyu]

hi can i request a wonwoo friends to lovers!!

abso-fuckin-tutely! since you were a lil vague, i asked my friendly neighborhood wonwoorideul for a prompt and she shouted out the song nothing by bruno major (aka one of the sweetest songs on wonwoo's spotify playlist)!

nothing + jeon wonwoo

moving in with your best friend was the best idea you ever had, even if he claimed it was his.

wc.3707 | fluff, angst, roommates/friends to lovers au, gn reader, like one swear and it barely counts bc it was hoshi, slowburn pining, wonwoo sees you and his mind is full of poetry, happy ending! (jp ver.)

thank you so much for my very first request! i tried to post this quickly, so i’m sorry if it’s not as polished as my other pieces. i was so impatient to get this out hahah. i love me some domestic wonwoo

*

wonwoo wasn't just your roommate, to be perfectly frank. the lanky guy had wormed his way into your close circle when you had worked part time together at a grocery store fresh out of high school, and when you both decided you needed to be closer to the big city, it just made sense to go together. you had never lived alone before, and your mother had said she would feel better if you had someone she knew around, someone to take care of you for her, even though you insisted you would be fine. she tried to get you to move in with your auntie, and while eating her food would be a definite plus, you absolutely despised the idea of living under the same roof as your chaotic cousin. so, when wonwoo mentioned wanting to get out of your podunk village, you excitedly told him you wanted to move to seoul.

"okay," he had said, looking at you over his comic book as he lounged on your family's couch. "let's go, then."

two months later, his dad was helping the two of you move into a tiny two bedroom apartment in a neighborhood of seoul that housed mostly old married couples, but you liked that it was a little more quiet than downtown. it felt more like home, but busy enough to give you your fill of the city. you could walk down the street to a cafe every morning on your way to the station, headed to your shitty temp desk job that you had just to pay bills. wonwoo was able to transfer to the main seoul office of his existing job as a software engineer, and was even able to work from home most days. you were forever jealous that he could hop onto remote meetings wearing a tie and button up over a pair of sweats. on days that he had to go into the office, though, he would walk with you and point out shops that you had yet to visit in your few months of living in the city.

"since when are you a flowers kinda guy?" you asked, gaze following his finger to the florist shop he pointed out.

he shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps over the blazer he wore. "might be nice for the apartment."

you eyed him. despite knowing him for years, sometimes he still surprised you.

on days that he didn't ride the subway with you, you would come home to find him sitting on the couch, swinging around a digital new york city from a web on the tv. you noticed the potted plant on the kitchen counter when you dropped your keys off in their designated tray. they were red, with tight round petals. you thought they almost looked like roses, but you knew that wasn't right. peonies? begonias? you didn't know enough about flowers to recognize them, but you figured he went to the florist in your neighborhood while you were at work.

he paused his game after landing on a roof somewhere. "how was your day?"

"good," you said, pulling off your light jacket and standing by the couch. "what's with the flowers?"

wonwoo looked around you to the yellow ceramic and red blooms, both colors that suited the other few colorful items in your minimalistic (mostly from having only lived there a few short months) white kitchen. "camellias. i thought they looked nice."

you nodded, thinking that he had more to say, but decided not to press. "have you eaten?"

he stretched on the couch, hands falling to the back of his beanie clad head as he let out a strangled noise. "do i ever eat without you?"

that made you smile. "any thoughts on dinner?"

wonwoo shook his head, settling back into the couch. "what do you feel like?"

"i'm craving pizza."

wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted to fish his phone out of the pocket of his favorite track pants. "go take a shower, i'll order."

you grinned. "you are such a good roommate."

"correction, i'm the best roommate. oh, also," he pointed towards the fridge in the kitchen. "soonyoung came by with side dishes from your aunt."

"oh, thank god," you said, walking over to wash your hands quickly and check the haul. "i was worried we were gonna have to buy kimchi this week. he wasn't annoying, was he?"

wonwoo shook his head, chuckling at the way you talked about your cousin as he tapped through menus on his phone. "he was fine. complained that you weren't here."

"doesn't he have a job?" you opened a plastic container and popped a sweet braised potato into your mouth. your voice was muffled as you chewed. "he knows i get off at five. if he wants to see me he should come when he knows i'll be home."

the small smile on wonwoo's face never left as you rambled about soonyoung, then your fantastic chef of an aunt, and then the new guy that sat at the desk next to you that microwaved fish for lunch. seriously, who microwaves fish? in an office?

wonwoo commiserated with you, then told you to hurry and go wash up, because he had just submitted the pizza order, to which you responded "okay, okay, i'm going. i'll be back in a minute."

after a steam filled shower, you left the bathroom while toweling your damp hair, sporting a plain black v-neck with your, similar to wonwoo's, favorite track pants.

wonwoo looked up and laughed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "we match."

you eyed one of the several black muscle tanks wonwoo sports regularly and giggled, pulling at the stripes down your pants. "we do. you want wine?"

"hell yeah. friday night, baby."

you laughed, returning to the bathroom to hang your towel before making your way to the kitchen, pulling a couple of stemless wine glasses out of your cabinet. they were the only glasses in the apartment because, as wonwoo had said, your priorities are notoriously bad. but, you reminded him, they worked just fine with water too, so you convinced him that buying real glasses could wait until you were both slightly less busy. you grabbed the bottle of red wine off the counter and looked at the seal. "wonwoo."

"yeah?" he paused his game and looked at you over the small kitchen cart that acted as an island. you held up the wine.

"new bottle."

he sighed dramatically. "what would you do without me?"

you grinned happily as you got the wine opener out of a drawer, holding it out for him. he snatched the bottle and opener from your hands and made a face, but began twisting the corkscrew into the cork nonetheless. you planted your elbow on the wood topped cart and watched him as he tugged out the cork, decidedly ignoring the fact that he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and he definitely looked like he had taken a trip to the gym today. 

"you pour, i always miss."

you laughed, pulling at the shrapnel of the seal that wonwoo always refused to cut away before removing the cork. "maybe if you didn't make the neck such a mess it wouldn't go everywhere when we pour it."

"unnecessary step," he retorted, watching you as you poured the wine into the two glasses. he took the one closest to him as you finished. "cheers."

"cheers," you repeated, clinking your glass against his and taking a gulp. you let out a noise of approval. "happy friday."

wonwoo was smiling as he took a sip. "happy friday."

"where's the pizza?"

"uh," he patted his empty pockets, then put down his wine glass to retrieve his phone from the couch. "down the street."

wonwoo had to shove his feet into a pair of slides to meet the delivery person at the entrance of your building, and when he returned, you were giggling into your glass at your sns feed. the wine hit maybe a little too hard, but you hadn't eaten in too long for you to have almost polished off a glass already.

wonwoo gestured for you to join him on the couch, so you grabbed the bottle of wine and tucked it under your arm, carrying the two glasses over to where he was shutting off his game.

you ate merrily, and then you talked. about nothing and everything all at the same time. this happened more often than you ever thought it would, but a week into living in the city, wonwoo had come home from hanging out with some old friends to you crying on the couch with a show on that was far too comical to be the source of your tears. that night, he stayed up with you until the sun was peeking up over the buildings, listening to your worries and struggles. he shared his own fears. you were a blubbering mess. he kept sniffling his nose, acting like the tears welling up in his eyes weren't there when you laughed, despite yourself. wonwoo and you had always been close, or as close as past coworkers that had the same friend circle could be, but this was different. you couldn't remember the last time you had cried like that in front of anyone, much less someone who wasn't your mother.

when you woke up on the couch past noon, your sunday to a late start, your arms were wrapped around wonwoo's torso as he slept, one hand tucked behind his head and the other on your back. his face was inches from yours. your cheeks were pink and you suddenly felt hot, trying as gently as you could to escape without waking him. he stirred, but only to readjust as you snuck away.

he said nothing about the cuddling when he woke to the sound of you closing the front door, and you smiled as you held out the iced americano you got him at the cafe down the street. he squinted at you and scratched his head, taking the drink and sipping it before even testing his voice.

"thanks."

he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. "what? you bought coffee. thank you."

you sat next to him and swirling the straw in your own drink. "no, i mean for staying up with me. sorry i was a mess."

there was a pause, and your heart almost stopped when he put an arm over your shoulder. "you weren't. and i'll stay up with you whenever you want."

wonwoo sipped at his drink again, giving you a light squeeze when a tear fell down your cheek.

living together meant you saw a side of him you had never seen before. the little things he did throughout his day, when he wasn't even particularly conscious that you were in the same room as him. he always bit at his thumb when he was working, and he had a habit of leaving the milk carton open in the fridge. he always made you smile when he emerged from his room with his headphones loud enough for you to hear them from across the room, and he cluelessly bobbed his head to whatever he was listening to while he refilled a water bottle, waving and smiling before he returned to his room. when your mom asked you how living with wonwoo was, you told her he was great. clean, respectful, and quiet. that you had never been closer. that he made you feel safer so far from home. you didn't, however, tell her that you discovered that he liked running home from the gym at 2 pm on the weekends, laying out on the floor with his shirt over his head before he convinced himself to take a shower.

you had always thought wonwoo was cute. how could you not? he was a handsome guy, but you had accepted your place as a friend to him and happily let it progress no further. but, now that you spent your afternoons off arguing with him on whether or not showering was even worth the trouble, you couldn't help but stare at him. watching his toned chest rise and fall as you thought about how he had admitted his crippling fear of failure to you at three in the morning when your face was puffier than a padded jacket.

you never noticed, but wonwoo watched you closer than he did anything in his life. that night, when he found you crying, he felt his heart clench as you told him all your insecurities. when he had pulled you into his chest and held you tight as you questioned whether moving so far from home was a mistake, he patted your hair and told you that it was going to be fine. you had him, afterall. he had you. the two of you could make it out here. and if you still wanted to go home when the lease was up in six months, he would be there to help you move back.

he didn't stop holding you until your breathing settled, your shoulders stopped shaking. he leaned back into the couch, bringing you with him, and you didn't protest when he ran his hand up and down your back, coaxing you to sleep.

since then, every time you spoke to him, he couldn't help but stare at you intently. he watched your eyes light up while you talked about something you loved. he watched you scrunch your nose as you talked about your new desk neighbor. he watched your lips push into a pout when he said he should go get some work done. he wondered if anyone else noticed the way you sucked on your teeth while you thought up a witty comeback, or the way you carded your fingers through your still wet hair. or the way your eyes creased into a laugh, your hand coming up to block your open mouth. or the way you chewed on your red wine stained lip while he tried to form a sentence in response, when all he wanted to do was put those lips on his.

wonwoo had been stewing with these feelings far longer than he thought bearable, but stuffed it down in fear that he might lose you altogether. he didn't want to lose you altogether. he had gone on a walk halfway through his workday at home, feeling antsy for no particular reason, though if he thought about it long enough he would have realised it was because you had said something about feeling lonely lately that morning. he saw the florist he had pointed out the week before, and his feet brought him through the door.

"hi!" he looked up from the colorful display by the door to the person behind the counter and smiled politely. "did you need help finding something?"

"um," wonwoo blinked and looked around for a moment, then moved towards the counter. "i need a gift, i think."

the florist's eyebrows quirked curiously. "you think?"

he nodded, eyes flicking down to the nametag on his chest. he wondered if he was a foreigner with his three character name, but didn't mention it. "yeah. housewarming. for my, uh-" wonwoo paused, catching himself not knowing how to describe his relationship to you. roommate? wannabe lover? he bit his cheek. "my friend."

joshua nodded slowly, watching wonwoo's eyes as he worked his way through the sentence. "just friend?"

wonwoo stared at a flower arrangement to his right. "something like that."

"got it." joshua walked around the counter and gestured for wonwoo to follow him deeper into the store. "since it's a housewarming, how about a potted plant? something to brighten up the space for a long time. they'll think about you every time they see it."

wonwoo nodded, not saying anything about how funny he thought it was that he said he was getting his own roommate a housewarming gift. "that sounds nice."

"now, i'm not gonna claim to know you," the florist started, putting up his hands to exaggerate his words, they kept moving as he pushed and pulled pots, looking for one in particular. "you've said, like, maybe a full sentence to me, but those were some complex emotions when you called them a friend, so i'm gonna assume i know the situation. i think you should get camellias. specifically red ones."

wonwoo looked at the sunshine yellow pot in the soft featured man's hands. the petals of the flower were round and delicate, and he thought about how you said the color yellow made you happy. "why's that?"

"i think you should look up the meaning when you give them this," joshua said, and for some reason, wonwoo trusted him.

he came back to the apartment thinking about how he might have just gotten scammed into buying the potted flowers in his hands, only to find soonyoung about to hit the buzzer to call your unit, a far too large cooler bag sitting on the bench by the entrance of your building.

"is y/n around?" soonyoung asked, trailing behind wonwoo as they walked up the stairs, struggling slightly with the overpacked bag. "they didn't respond to my kakao."

"they're at work," he replied, flipping his keys over in his hands to find the one for your front door. "they'll be home around six."

"ah, shit," soonyoung laughed. "i always forget you guys have adult jobs. i would kill for a monday through friday."

wonwoo almost laughed, but left the smile on his face. "weekends are kind of overrated, anyways."

the shorter hoisted the bag of dishes onto the kitchen cart while wonwoo closed the door. "who're the flowers for?"

wonwoo stared at the pot in his arm as if it was the first time he had seen it. "oh, uh. just the place."

"for y/n?"

he looked at soonyoung, who had his chin in his palms, elbows planted on the counter as he smiled. he knew he was right when wonwoo didn't respond.

"i think they'll like them," he said, unzipping the top of the bag and starting to unload his mother's packaged dishes for his cousin. "they like the color yellow."

wonwoo just said "i know," before he opened the fridge and started rearranging things to fit the new food.

according to soonyoung, wonwoo was painfully obvious. when he had come by a couple weeks prior, you were arguing with him about some ridiculous childhood memory at your grandparents' home, and while soonyoung laughed, he noticed the smile on wonwoo's face when he watched you. he also noticed the way he instinctively put a hand on your back when you sighed about your newest temp gig, and soonyoung pulled on his ear as he looked at the ceiling, leaning against the kitchen cart much like he was today as he told wonwoo about how oblivious his cousin must be.

you pulled your knees to your chest as you sipped at your wine, the pizza box almost completely polished off by the two of you sitting on the floor in front of your couch. you stare at the pot of flowers.

"they're pretty," you said finally.

you too, wonwoo thought.

"camellias, right?" you turned back to him. "i like them."

i like you, wonwoo thought. "i went to that place down the street. the guy working was nice."

you nodded, sipping again. "any reason in particular?"

"i-" wonwoo paused, staring at his glass. he finished the last gulp in it and put it on the floor next to the pizza box. "you said something about being down recently," he said, folding his fingers together as he leaned back against the couch. "i wanted to get you something, i guess."

you watched his fingers as they pushed his glasses up his nose again, and your heart fluttered at the idea of wonwoo thinking about you when you weren't around. "really? that's so nice," you pouted, shoving his knee.

he laughed, pulling his knee onto the couch to face you. "the guy there - the florist, i guess? his name was joshua. he seemed to really know flowers." he knitted his brows together when he realized he was procrastinating on saying what he was nervous to. he put his arm on the back of the couch, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before continuing. "he said i should look up what they mean when i give them to you. red ones, specifically."

you perked up, heart racing. "what they mean? they have meaning?"

"y-yeah, i guess so," wonwoo said, then cleared his throat. 

"hey google!" you looked over to where the device sat by your tv. "what to red camellias mean?"

wonwoo stared at your profile as you watched the device think before its automated voice piped up.

"camellia flowers are available in white, pink, and red, with each color having its own unique symbolism."

you looked over to him, excitedly putting your glass to your lips as the voice continued.

"pink camellias symbolize a longing for someone, and is given to people who are missed."

wonwoo swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting against his temple.

"red camellias symbolize love, passion, and a deep desire."

your eyes widened slightly as the device shut off, glass still to your lips and eyes still on wonwoo's. he stared back at you, and you wondered if he meant it. but he never claimed that he didn't feel those things for you.

before you could think, you clumsily put your glass on the floor and moved. you didn't stop moving until your lips were on wonwoo's, pushing him back into the arm of the couch as you practically crawled into his lap.

his hands found your hips and he helped you settle into him, your fingers tracing his jawline as it worked against yours. you sighed into his lips as his hand slid up under your shirt, placed gently on the small of your back. pulling you into him. when you paused for a moment, you thought about waking up to this exact same view, that day after you had cried all night. but this time, his other hand pulled your jaw back to kiss him again, and you happily complied.

[yan-twst]

Can I request yandere prompt 11 for Jamil?

prompt 11: “feeling dizzy? well, it’s too late to realize: you already ingested what i slipped in your drink.” 

warnings: general yandere themes, drugs, alcohol

Jamil usually helped with the meal prep at Scarabia- it was part of his duties as the vice dorm leader, and it was clear everyone enjoyed his meals. Perhaps that was the reason why he continued to cook even after Kalim declared he no longer had to act as a servant to him: it gave him a small sense of pride, to know his skills were so widely appreciated.

Also, being on cooking duty meant he got to work with them.

Before, Jamil would have just bitterly ignored all thoughts of love; who’d want to be with someone from the Viper family, whose entire existence is one of servitude and being in the shadows of the Asims? But even so, he had fallen in love with a fellow Scarabia dorm member. He was positively obsessed with them, thoughts of them clouding his logical thinking at any and all moments of the day- he wanted them. 

Perhaps it had to do with his temper becoming so corroded and jaded due to harboring so many negative feelings in secret for so long, or because he desperately craved to have something precious to call his, but at the end of the day, Jamil’s crush had grown into a monstrous, dark obsession he kept tucked away.

His beloved always signed up for kitchen duties, preferring that work than other dorm chores. There was no rule that forbade a Scarabia student from switching chores with another, so they always managed to trade their other chores for meal prep. Which meant that Jamil got to share the kitchen with them often. Often enough that they’d grown to trust him, even after his overblotting incident and after everyone had seen his true colors.

It should have overjoyed Jamil- the one he loves believes in him! His beloved grows closer to him everyday! But...

“Ah, Jamil, can you pass me the thyme? Kalim mentioned he’d like manakeesh for dinner today, so I thought I’d make some with a recipe from the library.” they said, and Jamil’s grip on the knife he was using tightened.

Kalim this, Kalim that- this was hell on earth. Even though Jamil had demonstrated to be superior to the white-haired brat in every sense, his beloved seemed to still be very chummy with Kalim. In fact, it made Jamil’s blood boil: since he was no longer helping Kalim with everything, it almost seemed like his beloved had taken pity on the heir and offered to help him out. Seeing the one he loved carefully applying Kalim’s eyeshadow, patiently explaining class topics Kalim didn’t understand: what did Kalim ever do to deserve that attention?! Didn’t the spoiled heir have enough already?! Why must he take Jamil’s beloved too?

“... Sure, here you go.” Jamil said, pausing his chopping and passing a bundle of dried thyme to the fellow scarabia student. He felt like he was back in the old days of pretending to be fine as a servant, putting his all into modulating the rage out of his voice. “The spice grinder should be somewhere in the cabinets.”

Jamil hated it. He hated how at dinner, Kalim cheered for the one he loved as they brought out the manakeesh they’d made for him specially. He hated how they sat next to him and smiled- how every student seemed to get along with the one he loved. He finished his meal quickly and left to his quarters, locking the door as he flopped onto the bed. There laid a shirt he’d... Borrowed from his beloved (hey, he was on laundry duty and they never asked for it back!), and he held it close to his face as he sighed. It didn’t smell like them; it’d been washed, the scent of detergent lingering in the fabric, and it was only slightly disappointing to him.

He clutched the stolen shirt tightly, desperately wishing it had his darling’s scent. Their scent, their voice, their hair- gods, he loved all of them. How couldn’t they see he was the best choice for a lover? He was one of the smartest students in NRC, his skills were honed from years of training, he could protect his darling better than anyone else! Sure, he didn’t have the riches, but- surely, someone like him would climb up in life easily, right? Unlike Kalim, who liked pretty things and lost interest soon, his love was genuine! He loved his darling; every part of them, even the ones they tried to hide (and he knew of those very well- from snooping around their room while they were away or watching them from afar). So why- WHY didn’t they act as caring towards him?

The dark voice inside Jamil’s head telling him to just take what was rightfully his grew louder every day. Every time he saw his beloved smiling with others, every time he saw them blush at Kalim’s stupid and accidentally flirtatious words, his jealousy grew and fed into the dark desires in his heart. Does he not remember the story? Of how the Sorcerer of the Sands knocked down the phony fake prince? Of how the princess had been so desperately in love with the fake prince, until the Sorcerer of the Sands showed he was a sham? And... Had he forgotten the rumours of how the princess blindly refused the Sorcerer because she’d been fooled by the prince- until he forced her by his side and she finally understood that HE was the best option for her...? 

Having overblotted once, Jamil knew he had to be careful about gathering so much negative emotions- who knew if his body could really take a second overblot in such a time period. Luckily, his magic crystal didn’t show any signs of blot buildup; despite nursing his increasingly twisted and dark desires, he wasn’t abusing his magic. It was a pain: it’d be so easy to hypnotize people in order to drive his darling to him, but... He knew abusing his unique magic to get what he wanted wouldn’t work a second time.

His patience ran thin with every passing day where his romantic advances were seemingly ignored by his darling, who clearly seemed to treat him merely as a “friend”. Every laugh that wasn’t directed at him, every smile shown to another man, and every nervous blush aimed at Kalim, of all people did nothing but feed the nefarious impulses in Jamil’s head- until they snapped.

He’ll take what’s his. If being a charming person wouldn’t work, then perhaps he’d use the knowledge imparted on his family to take what he wanted.

“Hey, can I bother you for a second?” it was after dinner, and mostly everyone had left. Jamil had volunteered to clean the table, and his beloved had offered their help too- it was just the two of them now, finishing up the job. “My parents sent me a little bit of arak to celebrate my latest test grades. It’s a bit too much for just me, so I was wondering if you’d like to taste it?”

“...! I, well- isn’t that alcohol? Won’t you get in trouble for that?” his darling stared at him with wide, curious eyes. Jamil chuckled- of course they’d be the type to worry over that.

“It’s not strong at all, relax. Besides, if alcohol was a problem, Kalim’s parties would have been shut down long ago.” he said. It was well-known that in some of Scarabia’s rowdiest parties, the devil’s juice got around a bit too much  amongst the teenagers; it was just a fact of life for Scarabia. Besides, he knew that the promise of a little forbidden fun would tempt his darling; something as innocent as a drink, but still holding the thrill of it not being allowed... Judging by the sparkle in his beloved’s eyes, he knew he’d caught them.

“I guess you’re right! Well, I mean... One drink can’t hurt, right? It’s Friday, and...” they said, clearly calculating. “Wait, but isn’t that something your parents sent for you? I’d feel really shitty if I was drinking from a gift that they sent you-”

“They told me to share with a friend.” said Jamil, putting on his most charming smile. “I’d like to share with you. You’re always helping out in the kitchen- plus, I know you’re keeping Kalim from being a complete mess by himself.”

He didn’t particularly mean the last part, but he knew it’d work to fluster his beloved a bit. The praise worked, and their cheeks blushed slightly- Jamil’s heart fluttered. Not yet, he can’t show his love quite yet. Still, he was giddy as he led his darling to his room, locking the door behind him under the guise of “avoiding being caught”. His darling sat down on the neatly made bed, and Jamil retrieved a bottle from his desk drawer.

“Woah, it’s fancy...” said his darling, looking at the beautiful blue bottle. Jamil nodded- it... Really wasn’t. In truth, he’d bought it at the market a few days ago to use for this specific purpose- the lie about his family sending it was merely to make his beloved feel more special. He retrieved two glasses he’d been holding in his drawer as well. 

He prepared the drinks with some water from a bottle, and ice he conjured, the more advanced magic making his darling’s eyes widen. Handing the chilled glass to his darling and keeping one for himself, he sat down on the bed close to his beloved.

“Cheers,” he said with a smile. He could see his darling eyeing the whiteish liquor- had they not drank before, perhaps? But before he could encourage them to down it, they seemed to have a surge of courage and took a sip. They grimaced for a second, unused to the taste of alcohol, but quickly downed their drink.

“You liked it, huh?” said Jamil. Perhaps he should’ve added something to make the drink sweeter; it was bound to be a bit more bitter than usual, considering the circumstances, but... Well, his darling had drunk their glass, so all was good.

“It’s a bit odd, but... It’s nice! Your parents are certainly unique for sending you this as a celebration.” they said with a smile. “It’s... kinda odd...? But itsh... tasty...”

They blinked a couple times, noticing their own speech slur. Was it- was it that strong? Jamil had said it wasn’t but... Judging from how their vision was blurring slightly as they looked from the glass and back to Jamil, perhaps they were being affected a bit too much? Their head was spinning, and it felt like a certain sort of induced drowsiness was filling their head with cotton. Something was up.

“W-well.. Thankss for th.. the drinks, ‘Mil!” they said, slurred voice betraying their internal panic. “I gotta... Gotta get to m’room... Good night...”

Stumbling up, they tried to make their way to the door. Jamil observed with a dark smile, not saying anything as his darling tripped and stumbled until they got to the door, clumsy hands attempting to turn the doorknob to no avail. It was locked- they quickly realized that as their attempts grew more frenetic, looking back at Jamil with slight panic.

“J-jamil...? I wanna go to my room...” they said, eyes flickering nervously. Finally, Jamil just laughed, putting down his untouched glass of liquor on the nightstand as he made his way over to his beloved.

Strong arms pinned their dazed body to the door with ease, as his darling reeled from the sudden movement. They were scared, Jamil could tell- it was evident, even as their eyes were clouded and hazy. But... He was sure even the princes was scared of the Sorcerer at first, right? It took a while for him to show her that he was the best option... With those thoughts in mind, his hand moved to caress his darling’s warm cheeks, as he chuckled.

“Feeling dizzy? Well, it’s too late to realize: you already ingested what I slipped in your drink.” he said, thumb caressing their cheek as their panicked face blossomed into a deeper fear, uselessly and drunkenly struggling against his grip. “I’ve decided I’ll show you what’s best for you- so you won’t ever be stupidly laughing along with Kalim or any of those idiots. You’ll be with me.”

[chancelloramidala]

Staring at the Sun ➤ Evan Buckley

Chapter Three: Why Heart? Why?

Masterlist

Karen was in the kitchen doing the dishes when Hen came in grabbing a bottle of wine from the case and two glasses. “Hey, baby, who’s here?”

Hen shot her wife an exasperated look. “My co-worker, Marceline.” then she eyed the case of alcohol they had and debated if they would need something stronger.

“Oh, the brooder?” Karen raised a brow as she finally turned the water off after cleaning to soap suds off of the plates, recalling how her wife had gone on long tangents multiple times about the mysterious Marceline Pierce who held everyone at arm’s length.

“Yeah,” Hen chuckled before picking up a bottle of whiskey. Might as well go all in. “She ran here, I didn’t even know she knew where we lived.”

Karen shrugged with a small amused smile on her lips. “Maybe she just needs a friend right now. You go on now, I’ll put Denny to bed.” 

Hen smiled at Karen’s generosity. “Thanks, babe,” she walked over and gave her wife a quick peck on the lips before heading off towards the living room.

Marceline sat in one of the comfy chairs and hugged one of the throw pillows to her chest. She took in the living room she was in, focusing mainly on the pictures that littering the walls of Hen and her wife, Karen, and their son Denny. They looked like a happy family in her own opinion as a thought popped into her head, You’re disturbing their family time together, Marceline. Her head shot up when she heard Hen come in, carrying two bottles of alcohol and some glasses.

“Hey, um, sorry for intruding on you like this… I know you’re probably busy and shit,” Marceline fiddled with the frills on one side of the pillow she was hugging, feeling selfish for coming here in the first place.

“Pfft,” Hen shook her head as she walked over, laying the bottle of red wine and whiskey onto the coffee table before finally taking a seat across from her on the couch. “It’s fine, we already finished dinner and just cleaning up. It was just a little surprising but, I don’t mind, Marceline, really.” she gave the other woman a small smile that softened into a grin. “Plus, I didn’t really know what to expect so I brought both red and whiskey, take your pick.”

Marceline eyed Hen for a moment before slowly reaching for the whiskey and pouring herself a nice, long glass of amber liquid. Hen’s eyes widened at that, knowing very well that whiskey was strong as hell, and once she took a long sip, deciding that Marceline was spending the night here.

“Okay, so,” Marceline made a face after downing a whole glass of whiskey, the liquid burning her throat before staring at Hen. “I’m just going to put it all out there, um,” her eyes darted away from Hen’s nervously as she picked at her nails. “You were right earlier… about how I had an opinion on Buck and Abby… ‘cos like… I have a lot of opinions about them. Not necessarily… good ones… and um, the reason for my negative opinions is because, um,” she took in a deep breath before pressing her eyes shut. “I’m kind of... in love with Buck.”

So… that was not at all what Hen was expecting Marceline to tell her. Honestly, she was expecting some dark and mysterious from the other woman’s past that would explain her closed-off nature but… this was more than enough to suffice. 

But another unexpected thing just happened before Hen’s eyes: Marceline silently crying into a pillow she was hugging.

“Oh, honey,” Hen said softly and reached for a box of tissues nearby. “It’s okay, I’m glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me with that, I’m… honored.”

Marceline took a few tissues from the box Hen inched towards her and blew her nose. “I just,” she hiccuped for a moment and swallowed more of her pride. “I’m angry with myself for loving him because he’s taken now and I waited too long to tell him and it took me getting shot to realize that.” she huffed out as she let go of the pillow and started to dig her fingernails into her palm to prevent her from lashing out. “And I’m angry that he’s happy with Abby because I’m so fucking jealous of her.

“I want to be the one with Buck but I’m not. I’m just his emotionally distant co-worker who took two bullets for him. And I already told Nic this, all of it. She’s heard it from the start and I feel like I’m annoying her with my shit, especially my shit about Buck because she has her own shit to deal with and Gemma who is an absolute angel and now I’m probably annoying you with my shit because you have a wife and a kid and--”

“Alright, I’m going to have to stop you there, Marceline,” Hen put her hands up to try and stop her from rambling as she got up from her spot on the couch to sit on the chair next to her. But upon doing so, she saw Marceline wince back and held her hands up to cover to face… oh dear. She quickly lowered her hands onto her lap. “You’re not annoying me with your shit. I’m glad you want to talk to me about your shit, I really am. And I highly doubt Nic is annoyed about hearing you talk too. You just want to be heard, and I’m willing to listen to you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered out like a child who was being scolded.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” the older woman gently admonished before slowly reaching forward to put her hand over Marceline’s. 

She gave Hen a tiny smile as she squeezed her hand. “Thanks,”

Hen smiled softly. “Of course, but let’s start opening this wine, hm? Then we can talk about our boy Buck and how stupid he is. How about that?”

Marceline let a small laugh escape her lips. “Sure, that sounds fun. It’s better than moping alone. And hey, Karen can join us if she’d want and we can just shit on men because Buck lumps into the men category.”

Hen’s smile only grew at this and clapped her hands together. “Yes, this what we need. Okay, I’ll go get Karen who’s probably listening in from the kitchen if I’m going, to be honest, I’m sorry, she’s a little noisy,”

“I am not!” a voice indigently yelled from the kitchen.

“I rest my case.” Hen gestured to the kitchen doors before laughing softly. “Baby, come out here. Oh- wait! Bring some ice cream. We’re going full-on girl’s night right now.”

Karen then appeared with a few pints of ice cream and yet another bottle of wine and a big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Karen, Hen’s wife. Sorry for eavesdropping earlier, but nothing ever interesting happens at our house at this time.”

Marceline grinned and waved a hand at Karen. “It’s okay, my emotional turmoil can be very entertaining. Nic would agree with you. And hello Karen, I’m Marceline, a co-worker of Hen’s, very nice to meet you.”

“Alright, enough with formalities.” Hen waved her hands around as she took a pint of rocky road ice cream and a spoon. “Let’s start shitting on men,”

“Okay, bet,” Marceline grinned as she got her own spoon and leaned forward to get a scoop of the rocky road ice cream from Hen’s pint. “Doesn’t it bother you when men…”

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In comparison to how Marceline has been feeling for the last couple of weeks, her mood has been significantly lighter for the past couple of days. Finally telling someone other than Nic about her feelings was good, and Hen was a great listener and advice giver. Plus, Karen seemed to take a quick liking to her and invited her over to dinner on Friday so that was great.

And today? Well, it’s going well so far. Marceline ran around the block early in the morning before taking Nic and Gemma to work and school. But no, not on her motorcycle as she’d prefer, but in Nic’s car since she had the day off. Before she had to pick up Gemma from school, she cleaned up around the apartment because yikes, it was a bit of a mess. Mostly due to Marceline, she’s a slob, which annoys the hell out of Nicolette, but yanno, doesn’t former girlfriend’s turned roommates and kind of co-parents have some things they don’t like about the other person?

So Marceline did the laundry, which included actually folding it, took the garbage out, and cleaned the bathroom just in time to pick up Gemma from school. Sadly, Nic had a late shift that would run till one a.m. and she said she would just take an Uber home.

And that meant that it was going to be a Marceline and Gemma day, which, in the six-year-old words were one of the best days ever. This was probably because Marceline was a bit more relaxed when it came to doing homework once they got home, but made sure to get it done before six, and allowed the young girl to eat ice cream as a snack.

She parked the car in one of the parking spots, before getting out and shutting the door. Marceline wore her red bomber jacket and blue-washed jeans, along with some black converses. She walked towards the back of the school, recalling how the pick-up was usually near the playground, and carefully weaved past other parents and children walking by.

“Auntie Marcel!” a high-pitched voice squeaked from the swings as Marceline walked closer to the playground.

The first responder grinned widely and jogged towards the swings. “There’s my little Gem!”

Gemma gave Marceline a big, toothy smile before jumping off the swings and running towards her. “Today was so cool, Marcel, I’m telling you. Science class was awesome, we made elephant toothpaste and I made mine purple!” she spat out facts about her day with so much enthusiasm that it was contagious.

“Whoa, really? That sounds pretty cool, Gem.” Marceline swiftly took the little girl’s sparkly pink backpack and put it over her shoulder as they walked towards Nic’s car. “Y’know, all I did was clean the apartment, nothing nearly as interesting as that.” she opened the backdoor for the six-year-old to get into and then placed her backpack on the floor.

Gemma giggled as she shook her head, getting into her booster seat and putting her seatbelt on all by herself. “That’s okay Auntie, we can have fun together. Maybe with… some ice cream?” she asked in her overtly sweet voice.

Marceline sighed and playfully rolled her two different colored eyes as she shut the backdoor and then sliding into her own seat. “I don’t know kiddo… your mom is kind of worried about your sugar intake lately.” she turned the key into the ignition as the car turned on and rumbled.

Gemma pouted, aghast at her Aunt’s reasoning. “But Mars! It’s our special ice cream trip, you always let me get ice cream right after school when you pick me up. It’s like-- tradition! Like how at Christmas we get a tree and put the decorations up together. You wouldn’t want Christmas without a tree, would you, Mars?”

She turned around in her seat and squinted at the six-year-old sitting behind her. “I feel like I’m being tricked. Did your mom put you up to this? Is she testing my boundaries as a guardian?”

“No! I just want my strawberry cheesecake ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and for us to sit under the tree while you drink your cookies and cream milkshake.” Gemma said in her matter-of-fact adult voice before continuing, “And then you help me climb the tree, sometimes you climb it with me, or wait at the bottom.”

Marceline was touched by how Gemma seemed to enjoy her time with Marceline, even if the time they spent together was limited at best. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with the little pipsqueak, but she tended to keep herself busy when she had days off. She’d leave the apartment, go to the bar, make out with someone at the bar and maybe go home with them. She’s already spent so much time bothering the Bishop girls for the past seven years with her existence and didn’t want to keep doing it on her days off.

“Fine, we’ll go, but--!”

“--Ha, butt,”

“We will go get ice cream, but you gotta super duper pinky promise me that you won’t tell your mom about it.” Marceline wagged her finger at the young girl before putting out her pinky finger. “We got a deal, munchkin?”

Gemma quickly nodded as she giggled softly. “Okay, Mars. We got a deal.” then she raised her little pinky finger and leaned forward in her seat before wrapping it around Marceline’s finger.

And then they were off to the ice cream shop jamming out to One Direction (along with some of the bandmate’s separate singles), a current favorite of the six-year-olds. After belting to Kiwi, they finally arrived at their destination. Gemma was so excited that she practically jumped out of the car before Marceline could even park.

When they walked up to the counter, Marceline sent the familiar teenage boy at the cash register a small smile. “Hey, Jerome,”

Jerome smiled back at her and leaned over the counter, displaying his freshly painted manicure that contrasted against his dark complexion. “Marcel! It’s so good to see you and this little gremlin,” he shot Gemma a playful grin as she stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed at the kid and started typing into the register, “You’re getting your usual, right? A medium strawberry shortcake in a dish with a cone on the side and rainbow sprinkles on top, and cookies and cream milkshake with whipped cream?” he shot off in his usual cheery voice.

“You know us too well, Jer,” Marceline grinned and nodded as she took out her wallet and handing him her card. After he took her card and swiped it, she took a good look at the teen in front of her while Gemma went off towards their usual picnic table under the big orange tree with Marceline’s phone to play some games while the adults talked, “So, how’s school going? Still thinking about going to NYU?”

He let out a loud groan and rolled his eyes dramatically, “Girl, I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore, let me tell you.” But before he could continue, he shot of the order to his co-worker, Samantha who got to work on them and turned back around. “School is a pain in my behind as of late. I’m stressed out over this huge math test because I’m actually shit at math... and I still have to bust my ass at this job to save up for a place because I can’t keep staying at Alex’s house even though her parents say it’s fine.”

Marceline nodded carefully, hearing the clear annoyance and stress coming off of the eighteen-year-old. He had recently come out as transgender to his family, which immediately got him kicked out with nothing but the clothes on his back. Marceline had known Jerome before he came out through working at the ice cream shop throughout his high school years and became fast friends to the point where Marceline had gifted Jerome his first proper binder.

“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that, Jer.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but are you sure I can’t do anything to help? You know Nic is more than willing to let you stay on our couch for a bit. She loves you too.”

All Marceline wanted to do was wrap Jerome in bubble wrap and keep him safe from the world, but knew that realistically, she can’t.

Jerome shrugged his shoulders before handing their order to them. “It’s alright, I’ll figure something out.” 

She raised a skeptical brow at him. “Okay, but you have my number. Call me if you need anything, seriously.” She slowly took the tray from him.

“Will do, Marcel,” Jerome smiled lightly before blowing a kiss to her.

Marceline pretended to catch the kiss and chuckled softly as she turned around to walk over to Gemma. The six-year-old instantly put her phone down when Marceline slid next to her and gave her a big toothy smile. “Yay, ice cream time!” 

Gemma proceeded to inhale her entire ice cream while Marceline sat close by, idly sipping her milkshake and scrolling mindlessly on her phone. Gemma then launched into a long story about how her adventures at recess and how Lucas Mullens got gum stuck in his hair. Marceline, ever-so enthralled by an enchanting tale told by a child, nodded carefully as she diligently listened along and saved her questions till the end (by Gemma’s request of course).

Then it was Marceline’s turn to share a story, but this time from work. She decided on a lighter tale to tell the six-year-old when her team was on a call about a lady who had a snake wrapped around her throat. Gemma was instantly hooked, staring at her co-parent with big brown eyes filled with wonder. But she was saddened when she was told that the snake died by decapitation due to an impulsive Buck, deeming her co-worker “a menace” to all snakes.

Marceline tried to keep a straight face.

“What do you mean Buck cut the snake’s head off? It’s still a living thing, it didn’t need to die,” Gemma pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m telling you, Auntie Mars, he’s a menace. I learned that in school today.”

“Oh you did, did you?” she grinned and nudged the little girl with her elbow.

“Mars?” an all-too-familiar voice said behind her.

Marceline whipped her head around for the source of the voice, praying that her ears had betrayed her. But when her brown and green eyes landed on him, she wanted to turn to dust on the spot. “Buck, hey,” she plastered a fake smile, raising her hand to wave at him as her eyes also caught the redhead standing beside him. 

Buck walked towards them, causing Marceline to stand up and quickly run a hand through her hair because there was no way in hell she was prepared for this. 

“Didn’t expect to see you guys here,” she said, nodding her head amicably in Abby’s direction.

“Ah, well, I’m taking Buck out for the afternoon,” Abby said with a soft smile as she looked at the man beside her.

“And I was craving ice cream,” Buck added as he looped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist.

Marceline did her very best to make sure her eyes wouldn’t twitch. “That’s great, I’d recommend the milkshakes,”

Then there was a tug on her elbow, causing Marceline to look away from the lovesick couple before her and the little girl next to her. “Who are they?” Gemma whispered a little too loud, causing both Buck and Abby to grin. But before Marceline could properly respond, Gemma gasped and pointed at Buck, “Mars, he’s like a giraffe!”

If she was looking at a mirror, Marceline knew that her face would be bright red with utter embarrassment. “Gemma- oh my god,” she facepalmed and sighed, not even daring to look in their direction because what the fuck. “This is my co-worker Buck, the giraffe, and Abby, the giraffe’s girlfriend. Buck, Abby, this is Gemma, Nic’s daughter, and a public menace.”

“Hi,” Buck and Abby waved at Gemma with gleaming smiles.

Gemma gave Marceline an odd look. “What? Buck’s tall, like a giraffe. That’s why I called him a giraffe- wait,” the six-year-old halted before turning to look directly at Buck with her eyes turning to slits. “You’re the one who cut that snake’s head off in the story my Auntie was telling me!”

Abby stifled her laughter as Marceline wished that the ground beneath her would swallow her whole.

Buck, to his credit, laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah, uh, that wasn’t my finest moment at the LAFD, but I do regret that.”

Clearly, he was alluding to what happened right after that call and how he slept with the caller and got caught by Bobby. That was a mess.

Gemma eyed Buck. “You’re lucky you’re a giraffe,” and sad that in the most serious tone Marceline has ever heard a six-year-old use.

Again, laughter erupted. And, again, Marceline wanted to disappear at the sight of Buck and Abby being so happy together.

God, feelings fucking suck.

@skyslowalking​ & @beelarson​ once again, this is for you

[athela-3]

crushing defeat

1.7k words; gen/comedy; hints of shipping if you blink, look here, and look away again; if everyone gives aspec vibes that’s my bad, I have no idea how allos work; 3 am nonsense is practically its own genre; mild language (canon-typical); no content warnings.

Yuki’s never had a crush before. Normally that’s not a problem, but now that he really needs to know what it’s like, nobody else in Mankai can seem to give him a straight answer. And what does cake have to do with anything?

“You. Elite Swindler. What's it like to have a crush?”

Itaru looks up from his phone and finds himself face-to-face with Yuki's inquisitive eyes. “Um.” He blinks, stalling for time while he forces his brain to take a U-turn from his game. “Why do you ask?”

Yuki sighs, swatting aside a strand of hair and tucking it behind his ear. “My character's supposed to be in love, but no matter how many times I try saying my lines it never sounds right. The Director said I should try asking around to get an idea what it's supposed to feel like, and you're sitting right here. So are you going to tell me or not?”

“Huh.” Well, that sounds like something she would do, Itaru concedes. He sits up, placing his phone face down on the sofa next to him. “If I have to describe it, I'd say it's inconvenient. Just because you like someone doesn't mean you'd like liking them. It's kind of like pulling a gacha and getting an SSR. If it's your favourite character, cool, but if it's a character you don't like and you already have three other copies of the exact same card, and now you have to grind all over again… not cool.”

Yuki rolls his eyes, and for a second Itaru thinks he's about to be on the business end of his trademark sarcastic zingers again. “But what is it like? It can't be as sappy as it looks like in Muku's manga.” Beat. Slowly, with dread creeping into his voice: “Is it?”

Itaru opens his mouth to answer, only for a better idea to spring into mind. He cranes his head to look into the kitchen, where Homare is nursing a cup of some fragrant tea blend with a complicated, bougie name. “Hey, Homare? How would you describe the feeling of falling in love?”

There's a brief pause, filled only with Yuki's wide-eyed Oh-No-You-Didn't stare, which Itaru diligently avoids. Then Homare places his teacup on the saucer with a gentle plink and replies, with the absolute certainty of an astronomer looking at the night sky: “Devotion astride with every doki doki… a sugary somnambulism, nefelibata's mazurka of watchfulness, feather-light fingertips painting patient litanies!”

“Exactly.” Itaru grins. “See? It's not that hard.”

Yuki's expression is flat, but Itaru thinks he can see the gears turning inside his head. Eventually he sighs. “Fine. You've made your point.”

“Look, that's all I've got,” Itaru shrugs. “Besides, why don't you ask someone who definitely knows what it's like? Have you tried asking Muku?”

“Duh. He tried to hand me a bunch of romance manga for reference. But that's fiction. If I want my acting to be realistic, I need to look at real life examples.”

“Why not ask Masumi then?”

“And listen to him babble about the Director for the next three hours?”

“Mm. Kazunari?”

“I'm not an idiot. I already asked everyone in my troupe.”

“Tsumugi?”

“I would, but he's not home. Tasuku says he's out tutoring. And before you start, I already asked the Muscle Freak. He mumbled something about high expectations and ran off.”

“Citron?”

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“Taichi?”

“The Dumb Dog? That's… a good idea. Plus I needed to check on his sewing anyway, he's supposed to finish them this—”

“Yo, Taruchi, where are you? Don't just go AFK on me like that!”

They turn to see Banri emerging from the stairwell, phone in hand and an annoyed look in his face. Itaru waves him over at once, relieved to find a potential back-up partner. “Banri! You gotta help me out, man. I need you to describe what having a crush is like.”

Banri stares slack-jawed, caught totally off-guard. “A crush? It's distracting, that's what. I mean, they're all you can think about, right? No matter what you're doing or where you go, you just keep thinkin' about 'em.”

Itaru snaps his fingers. “Right! And you know you've got it bad when you keep finding excuses to be around them. Or when you do weird stuff to get their attention, like giving them things or teasing them or picking fights with them—”

“Why would you pick a fight with someone you like?” Yuki squints, thoroughly unimpressed. “You can't expect them to fight with you and then magically like you back afterwards. That's just stupid.”

“Well,” Itaru grins, “it is.”

“Ah, but such is love!” rejoins Homare, his sentence punctuated by a neat clink as he places his drained teacup in the sink. “Even the greatest of geniuses are fools when it comes to love. Perhaps I should write a poem about that… the overripe ache of tenderness, rotting one's mind even as it enriches the soul…”

Banri shakes his head sharply. “Yeah, whatever. Just get the interrogation done with so we can start the next match.” With that, he marches off into the kitchen, brushing past Homare without a word to fetch a glass of water.

As the poet leaves, still murmuring fancy thesaurus words under his breath, Itaru turns to Yuki and raises his eyebrows. “So? Think you got a better idea now?”

“A little,” Yuki admits. “You're not so useless after all.”

“Huh. I don't know what I expected. Guess I'll take what I can get.”

At that moment, the front door swings open, and in walks Juza, carrying a bag full of groceries in each hand. Behind him is the Director, bearing an identical bag in her arms and pulling the door shut behind her with her foot. “We're home!” she shouts.

“Welcome home, Director, Juza. Whoa, that's a lot of loot today.”

She laughs. “Turned out there was a sale, and since it's important that we save money I thought we might as well stock up ahead. I was lucky Juza came along to help, otherwise I couldn't have carried all of this back alone.”

While she stops by to talk, Juza keeps heading for the kitchen to unpack his groceries, only stopping when he realises his roommate is blocking the way. When it becomes apparent Banri has no intention to step aside, a scowl clouds over his face. “Move.”

A corner of Banri's mouth quirks upward. “Or what? You can't touch me, your hands are full.”

“Don't have to. You can stand there if you want, but the Director won't like it.”

Begrudgingly, Banri inches aside just enough for Juza to squeeze through. When he sees the topmost layer of groceries, he makes a small wolf-whistle. “Three bottles of strawberry milk? What d'you think this is, Hyodo, a damn onsen?”

“Ya gonna stand there babblin', or ya gonna make yourself useful?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Oh, Banri? Since you're already in the kitchen, and you're not doing anything,” the Director chimes in, industrial-grade cheerfulness dripping from her every word, “why don't you help me make dinner?”

Itaru snorts. “Curry duty? Ouch. I'll press F for you later.”

“Actually, tonight is sweet and sour pork. I got a deal on bell peppers, but they have to be eaten quickly,” she tells him, before calling out to Banri: “You can start by washing and chopping them, by the way.”

“The Currian chooses not to make curry?” If Yuki's eyebrows rose any higher, they'd completely disappear behind his fringe. “Did you hit your head on the door coming in?”

“I'm sorry, we can have curry tomorrow if that's what you want,” the Director smiles sweetly, and Itaru wonders if this is what she's like in the office. He tries picturing her giving instructions to her juniors and suggestions to her superiors, all in that inhumanly saccharine tone of voice. The mental image alone gives him the chills. “Oh! How's your role study, Yuki?”

“Eh, it's a work in progress.” He pauses, eyeing her with a slight squint. Oh, no, Itaru thinks, here we go again. “But now that you're here, why don't you tell me what you think a crush is like?”

“Me? I haven't had a crush since…” her voice trails off. She walks to the kitchen, places her groceries on the counter, and starts unpacking them alongside Juza. “I don't remember. What I do remember is that when you've fallen in love with someone, you want them to be happy. You remember the little things they like and don't like, because there's no feeling like seeing them smile and knowing it's because of you, or something you did. If they're happy, you're happy. But if they're upset about something, then you feel bad too, even if it wasn't your fault.”

Yuki hums a wordless acknowledgement, face scrunched in thought. “And you?”

Silence. After a few seconds, Juza looks up from the cabinet he is currently stuffing with raw pasta. “…Me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. Who else?” Banri snorts. “Oi, gimme the pineapple. I can't find it in this mess.”

“Didn't get any.”

“What, so we're making sweet and sour pork without pineapple? Who eats sweet and sour pork without—” Realisation dawns in his eyes. He blinks, as if startled, glances at the Director, and looks away again. “Oh. Huh. Well, that's interesting.”

“Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Settsu?”

“None of your business. Now answer the damn question already so we can cook in peace.”

“We ain't cooking, you are,” Juza points out. “An' I dunno.”

“You don't know?” Yuki presses impatiently. “Or you're not telling?”

“Dunno. Never had a crush.”

“Tch. Of course you've never liked anyone. All you like is cake.”

Itaru nods comprehendingly, shooting up in his seat. ”Banri's got a point, you know, the cake does kind of give it away. Bet you also like dragons.”

“Wait,” Yuki interjects, “what's cake got to do with anything?”

“You don't know?” Itaru twists to face the boy completely. “Aw, man. I thought you of all people would know. Do you like cake?”

“What does it matter?”

“C'mon, it's just a yes or no question!”

“They're OK? I'm not that big on sweets, but I like the really pretty cakes. Especially the ones with edible flowers on top.”

“The real question is,” Banri looks up from the cutting board and points the knife at Yuki, “would you rather fall in love or eat cake?”

“What kinda stupid question is that?” Juza mutters, still playing grocery Tetris with the cabinet and therefore completely missing the death glare Banri sends his way.

“Shut your cakehole, nobody asked you.”

Yuki's brows furrow, and Itaru notices his eyes flickering to Juza before he settles on a reply. “If I had to choose, I guess I'd choose cake. Having a crush sounds so exhausting. Besides, I know what cake's like, so I know what I'm getting myself into.”

Itaru claps his hands together, triumphant. “See? Congratulations, you're Team Cake! Don't worry about the dragons, we'll get there when you’re ready.”

“But what does any of it have to do with—you know what, forget it.” Yuki throws his hands into the air, mere millimetres away from clocking Itaru's head. “I should've asked someone who knows what they're talking about. You guys are hopeless.” With that, he turns on his heels and makes his exit, presumably off to interview the next hapless sap to cross his path.

“Good luck!” the Director calls out.

Itaru shakes his head. “And here I thought we'd get more affinity points than that,” he mutters. “Talk about being hard to please.”

“Don't blame him, it is a tough subject to crack,” she points out. “Oh, does that mean you're free right now? In that case, can you please make some rice while I get the pork ready?”

“Welp. Is this a mandatory quest?” She nods, and he sighs, slowly stretching to his feet and pocketing his phone. “All right. But you owe me cake. All this talk's got me craving a slice.”

“I'll grab you some tomorrow, how's that sound?”

Banri's head snaps up again. “Hey, if he gets cake for helping, then how come I don't?”

“You don't even like cake,” Juza grumbles.

“I’m just sayin’, it ain’t fair. And don’t pretend you don’t want some.”

She reaches past them to grab the packet of pork on the table and laughs. “All you had to do was ask. You know what? I'll get you cake. Both of you.” She pauses to scratch her chin. “Come to think about it, maybe I should just get a nice big cake for everyone to share. I've got a feeling we're all gonna need it come tomorrow.”

[vetrubius]

ANONYMOUS AFFECTION

CHAPTER 2: DECEPTION POINT

W.C: 1,666

Summary: Y/N L/N is a 24 year old bartender who owns a small bar. The usual life of hers is about to change after meeting the Hero Associations Chairman, Izuku Midoriya. She’s in charge of the afterparty of the Sports Festival for the Hero Association. Watch her as she falls in love gracefully with one of the strongest hero.

A/N: Chapter 2, y’all! Planning to do a little smau too in the consequent chapters.

Warnings and genre: Angst, Fluff, Cigarette smoke, Alcohol, Cheating, mention of gun once, headache, phone conversations, texts.

The two of you sigh looking up at the smokey ceiling. “That was good,” you say, exhaling the smoke. “Maybe it’s been a while that’s why.” he hypothesizes taking the cigarette from your hand “when was the last time we fucked anyway?”. “I guess it’s been a week” answer rolling to face him. His yellow hair falling on his sides, the lips parted slightly to remove the smoke through his mouth, his yellow eyes staring up at the ceiling. He looked so sinful. But it seemed like he was in a different state altogether. Thinking about something else. “Hey” you whisper near his ear, licking the lobe of it. “You seem to like doing that for some reason. It’s….ugh” his body shivered down to the last bit. You could sense his arm hair rising and his cock slowly but painfully erecting again. He decided to latch on to your lips and bite your bottom one hard. “Somebody’s wanting some more.” he growls against your chin.

Your intimate moment with Denki is broken by your phone ringing from the hall. “Ah don’t go,  babe” he whined “I’ll be back in a while, wait.” You say gently smiling at him, giving him reassurance. You got up quickly, grabbed your dressing gown and sprinted towards the noise point. Just a second before you reach, you see the phone on silent again. “Iida..” you murmur as you see three missed calls from him. At… 3 am? Shouldn’t he be sleeping right now? You don’t waste any time calling him back, making your way to the small balcony and simultaneously tightening the drawstring around your waist. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I called to tell you that the boss agreed for the afterparty at the bar.” 

“That’s really great!  Was it tough convincing him about the small place?” 

“No, not one bit. He was kinda into the idea.”

“Alright. That’s a plus one. Thank you Iida. You really saved my ass here.” 

“Nah, there’s a slight problem.”

“What?”

“He wants me to organise it on the 25th of November.”

-silence-

“Isn’t that a week?”

“Yeah”

“I need an advance payment for that. I’ll forward you my bank account details. And if I have any problems, I’ll call you.”

“Alright, will do. Why are you up right now anyway?” 

“If you know, you know. I hear cars behind you. Still at work?”

“Shifts getting over at 8 am.”

“Iida, you should make time for Uraraka.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Don’t you think she’ll be getting lonely? She needs you too, you know?”

“I know but she gets it. Anyway, get back to your...ahem….work” 

“You too! Do good and take care.”

“Bye-bye!!” 

As soon as the call ended, you felt the sudden urge to go back to the bar. You’d come to Denki’s place to hook up a lot of times, majorly because your room was a mezzanine right above the bar. So the two of you would never get any privacy. But right now, all you cared about was going back and attending the bar. You made your way to Denki’s room and opened the door slightly. “Den-” your eyes were met by him fast asleep with soft snores. You took your clothes, your white shirt and trousers, rolled them and dumped them in your handbag. “These will need washing, I’ll just take something from his closet.” You took the white t-shirt and a pair of track pants, and made your way to the bathroom. Tying your hair up into a half ponytail, you get out of the washroom and go to his room again. 

You put his blanket over him and exited his house with only one thing in mind. The bar. 

The walk from Denki’s house is barely 20 minutes and you love the city more in the early morning where you see either drunks or joggers. You unlock the bar gate and step inside being welcomed to the darkness again.  It’s not like you mind it but you would feel better coming back home to someone. Someone other than an empty stage and ghosts of your customers. As you finish washing the empty dishes and taking another smoke break, you start making your way up to the mezzanine. Your thoughts of sleeping are disrupted by the metal door bell ringing, showing the door opening of the bar. “I’m sorry we’re clo-” you announce, annoyed as you turn to see who the person was. The two stare into the strangers' green eyes. His green hair in motion with his face, his hands scavenging to remove the mask off his face and get as much oxygen he could consume.” 

“Hey, are you okay?” you start making your way down the steps towards him with concern. He put a finger up, gesturing you to wait. After he’d caught his breath, he stripped his mask off his face completely and looked at you. “I know you’re closed but there was this weird guy chasing me, I needed a safe space,” he said “could I have a little water please?”. Great. There goes your sleep. Tossed right in the dustbin. But right now you need to take care of him. “Ah fuck it” you murmur as you fill a glass of water from the sink and make your way towards him. 

He was as tall as you but his muscles were definitely popping. “Thank you so much.” he said chugging the water down, handing you the glass back and grinned. You have to admit he was pretty cute with that devious grin. “What are you doing out so late anyway?” you asked going behind the bar and sitting on the barstool, indicating him to join you on the table. “Well, I was jogging and as I said before, I saw this weird guy chasing me. I’m pretty sure he had a gun or something.” He said as he walked over and made himself comfortable on the stool, his eyes scanning the large shelf of bottles behind you. “Yeah, I’m the bartender and the owner of this place. Just stay for 15 minutes and leave. I’m tired” you say as your head dips between your crossed arms on the table and you feel your eyes drooping against the cold granite. “Thank you for letting me be here. My name is-” is the last thing you hear before your flake out.

.

.

.

“Y/N?” Iida shakes you gently. “Y/N, wake up.” he said, patting your head slightly. “Mhm….” you stir,  groaning while twisting your body and feeling your numb hands. Still faded out, you look at Iida with the drool dripping down on one side of your face. “Time?” your raspy voice manages to choke. “It’s 11 am. You didn’t pick my calls up so I figured that you forgot to open the bar for breakfast again. Wake up, there are customers outside,” he said, signalling the door “oh, and here’s a note I found under that glass there” he shuffles through his pocket and hands it to you. “Anyway, I don’t have time. I’m already late to wake your stupidass up.” Iida said, walking towards the door. “Have a nice day.” is what you manage to choke out before rushing to brush, change and keep the bar running again. You kept your note on the nightstand, as you went ahead with your day. I’ll read that later. 

.

.

.

.

12 midnight rolled by quicker than you thought. You bid farewell to the last customers and put the closed board outside the bar. Your day had been hectic; the usual breakfast people, cleaning floors and washing dishes in the afternoon, making a list of the things you needed at the party while contacting people and other things while dealing with a splitting headache. Taking care of this place really covers the exercises you don’t do. Wrapping things up, you made your way to your room and recollected the note Iida gave you. You entered the room and turned the lights on and looked at your phone and desk. Picking up the paper, you start reading it. 

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to thank you since you passed out of the table lol. Anyway, here’s my number, text me once you wake up: +81 xxxxx xxxxx.” 

Keeping the paper down, you pick your phone up to text him and you’re greeted with multiple texts from Ochako, Iida and Denki which you ignore and type in the number in your new message.

While you’re at it, you decide to open Denki’s text too.

After you press send to Kaminari, you think a little. Maybe I should surprise him a little. You wear your garter and stockings on your legs and slip on your track pants, and an olive lacey bra and throw on a hoodie. You take a big chug of whiskey kept on the bar shelf once your feet hit the ground floor. “Oh, he’s definitely in for a treat” you giggle and talk to yourself as you make your way downstairs and out the door. 

You walk in the cold listening to Rude Boy by Rihanna (because why not) to pump yourself up for getting your back injured tonight. You make a left towards Denki’s lane and skip a little. Maybe I’m actually having feelings again. I guess this might work. You giggle realising how much Iida would disapprove of it. Maybe scold you a little for being irresponsible for letting yourself develop a little something for each other. But he’d wish you all the happiness in the world nevertheless. 

You make your way up in the lift to his apartment. The doors part open and you see a new pair of shoes outside his house. Damn, he didn’t tell me he had guests. You unlock the door and walk into the house. Your eyes are greeted by clothes thrown all across the floor. Womens clothes. You freeze. The sounds coming from the room verifies your thoughts. Someone else? You try to process your scattered thoughts and move your numb body towards the door. Each step feels in sync with the moans from the room. You push the door a little to see inside. Only for your eyes to drop to her.

series masterlist

[gwen-of-myth]

Horribly Wrong, Bad, Terrible Choices (But I Don’t Regret a Thing): Chapter Two

It’s the next day now, and Stiles is all nerves. He didn’t get much sleep, too worried about messing up his dinner. The dinner he has tonight. With Peter fucking Hale.

Oh, shit, what has Stiles gotten himself into?

He checks his phone, seeing a text from dad asking about how school is going, and then one from Peter, that says “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Stiles sends off a “School is good, just a lot of homework. Love you” text and then falters when he opens up the text from Peter again. A single text has no right to make him feel so happy. It’s just a good morning text, people send those all the time.

But still. He’s getting emotions about it.

Stiles: Mornin creeperwolf

He gets ready for the day gradually, starting a pot of coffee and listening to a video game soundtrack while he takes a shower.

He turns the water off when he’s done and checks his phone while he towel dries his hair with one hand.

Peter: Did you sleep well, sweet boy?

Stiles: No, but that’s okay. Usually don’t anyways

Peter: Now that won’t do.

His phone is suddenly ringing. He curses and throws his towel down. Stiles hits the accept button and puts it on speaker, licking his lips nervously.

“H-Hello?”

“Stiles,” Peter purrs into the phone, making him nearly drop it. Fuck, but his voice is smooth and sultry.

And there’s a problem. Before, Peter never really effected him like this. Not because Stiles never noticed Peter’s smokin hot bod (you’d have to be blind) but because Stiles feels like yesterday some part of him clicked in place. Like there was some mysterious piece of the puzzle of Stiles that Peter has, and he can’t get enough of it. It makes his knees weak and his head kind of fuzzy, almost like...

“Dear boy, are you listening?”

Stiles’s cheeks flush. Peter had been talking. Oops.

“Sorry.”

There’s a hum in his ear, and it’s unreal how just that one sound causes his whole body to erupt in goosebumps. Plus, the pet names Peter keeps calling them? It makes him feel cherished. Seen. And a little frustrated that he can’t explain his emotions upon hearing them better, even to himself. It’s just so much. Peter is so much, in a good way now.

“You’re okay, darling boy. I was just asking when your shift started.”

He licks his lips and looks at the clock.

“Uh, two. I get off at ten, but I have to finish an essay today...so I should probably start on that soon.”

“Responsible. Well, how about I pick you up at about eleven. Would that be enough time for you, and do you have plans for tomorrow as well? I don’t want to be the reason you’re kept up late. Not if you have somewhere to be tomorrow.”

He’s nodding, then the flush returns from before when he remembers Peter can’t see.

“More than enough. I...”

He hesitates.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

He catches the whine that tries to slip out of his throat then.

“I don’t have any plans for tomorrow. Well, maybe some homework in advance, but no work or anything. And. I’m excited. For tonight, I mean.”

He’s not sure why he says that. It’s not like it’s a date, it’s just. Dinner. Does he sound to desperate? Does—

“So am I. I’ve had my eyes on you for quite some time now, truth be told.”

“Really,” Stiles breathes, preening a bit. The anxiety from seconds before is seeping away.

“Of course. I don’t offer the bite to just anybody.”

“What about Scott?”

“That was obviously poor judgement with an altered state of mind. He’s a child who has no qualifications or instincts to competently lead a pack. I could have got a squirrel who’d do better. You, though...”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You have the loyalty and can make the hard decisions without seeing in black and white. There is no such thing as pure and good, just lesser evil. You’d be a natural.”

“I...still don’t want it. To be a werewolf.”

“No matter. You’re beautiful as you are.”

They talk for a while longer, Stiles getting more comfortable the longer they do. The frustration from yesterday is already melting away just from Peter’s voice.

It’s a shame he has to write his paper. When they hang up, it’s with Peter saying, “Have a good day at work, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”

It sends a nice warmth through him, like a big hug. Which abruptly ends later when he parks in front of Café Luna and sees the huge line inside. A rush. Dammit.

It isn’t the worst work day, though, and he has dinner with Peter to look forward to. Stiles’s boss, thankfully, doesn’t mind him making an iced coffee for himself and then he’s energized and doesn’t even flinch when he spills the sticky French vanilla flavoring all over himself.

His shift ends, eventually—thankfully—and he’s on his way home to shower and change. Which, uh...oh god, what is he gonna wear? Stiles has no clue. He prays to whatever god that is listening that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot tonight.

“Why do I care what I wear? It’s just dinner. Not a date. The opposite of a date, whatever that is,” he mumbles to himself.

Stiles showers quickly, mostly just washing off the sweat of the day and humming the doctor who theme that’s been stuck in his head on and off for about a week.

Then he looks in his closet and chooses dark wash skinny jeans and a long black dress shirt that he rolls the sleeves up a little on, to show his arms off a little. He messes with his hair a little, slicking it back with some styling gel Lydia forced upon him. When Stiles steps back and looks at the final result, he doesn’t think he looks bad.

It’s weird how he cares what Peter thinks of him now.

Punctual as ever, when the clock strikes eleven, there’s a knock on the door that makes Stiles perk up. He forces himself to open the door before he overthinks it, and finds himself closer to Peter than he expected to be.

He goes to jump back, startled, but Peter’s arm reaches out and pulls him in for a hug. Stiles melts into it.

“How do you feel about motorcycles?”

His head shoots up, finally taking in Peter’s appearance. He’s wearing a white shirt, casual and soft looking, which is contrasted by the leather jacket draped over it.

“I’ve never rode on one before.”

There’s a gentle look on Peter’s face.

“Would you like to tonight?”

“I—okay. Sure.”

Peter seems pleased with him, and he feels lighter, somehow. Peter leads him to the motorcycle, and picks up a helmet from the seat. He gives it to Stiles expectantly.

He puts it on over his head and fumbles with the straps until Peter knocks his hands away and does it for him. Stiles blushes, avoiding his eyes until Peter is done.

“Get behind me,” Peter orders, slinging a leg over the bike and gesturing behind him. “And hold tight, sweetheart.”

The ride is nice, if a bit scary. His knuckles are white with holding Peter, but even the fear is exhilarating. And, it’s pretty. Everything looks so close. It’s different than riding a car.

When they arrive, Stiles hops off with shaky legs, but he’s grinning wide.

“It’s like a roller coaster! Only no seatbelt and a werewolf steering.”

Peter chuckles, and then he’s unfastening the helmet and setting it back on the bike.

“You’ll get used to it eventually, dear boy. Come, dinner is ready for us.”

Stiles can’t help the warmth of want that goes through him when he hears Peter order him to come, even if it was meant to be innocent. He follows obediently, and they go up an elevated to Peter’s apartment.

It’s...nice. Everything in it looks pricey, but Peter always did have expensive taste. The food is already on the table, with a bottle of red wine and everything.

“I just took it off the stove when I went to pick you up,” Peter starts, picking up the bottle and pouring himself a glass. “so it should still be warm.”

“It looks so good. I’m famished.”

Between schoolwork and his job, there wasn’t a lot of time to eat. He had breakfast, but that’s pretty much it. Stiles can’t complain too much, though.

Sure, he’s exhausted and kind of hungry most of the time and usually stressed, but at least he can be. At least he has the opportunity to go to college. So he won’t be ungrateful. Even when it sucks.

He sits down eagerly, and when he puts the first forkful in his mouth, he has to close his eyes and moan. Fuck, it’s good.

Stiles opens his eyes and sees Peter staring, eyes dark. He coughs to try to cover the sound, covering his mouth and averting his eyes.

“It’s really good.”

Peter looks amused.

“I’m glad you like it. Can I get you some water, Stiles?”

He thinks for a sec, then decides, screw it. All or nothing.

“Actually, I’d like some of that wine, please.”

At Peter’s incredulous gaze, he scoffs.

“What? I’m old enough. You don’t even get drunk and you’re drinking it.”

“I like the taste of it. Normally, I’d pour you a glass myself, but there are things we should talk about that we just can’t if you aren’t sober. That is why we’re here. Well, that reason and that I enjoy providing for pack.”

Stiles licks his lips.

“Before we talk about whatever you want to talk about...is this a date? I don’t want to assume, but. It’s been bothering me. All of this is throwing me off and I’m already stressed and it’s so up and down...”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t want to get messed with. I don’t need someone to try to distract me from school when I’m already doing my best.”

Peter’s nodding along, and it gives Stiles some confidence that he isn’t angry. He doesn’t know why Peter would be in the first place, but. Anxiety.

“If you don’t want this to be a date, it doesn’t have to be. I���d like it very much if this was a date, though. Smart boy, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Stiles’s eyes widen.

“It was?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you. I adore your intellect and the way you feel in my arms, and I think we’re very compatible.”

“You do?”

Stiles is dumbstruck by all of this. Peter wants to date him? Since when? He tries to swallow down the insecurities bubbling up.

“Absolutely. Both personality wise, and... Stiles, did you know you’re a submissive,” Peter asks, tone unreadable.

He flinches, nerves back, anxiety spiraling.

“I-I’m not. What does that even have to with our compatibility?”

Peter hums, sipping his wine.

“I’m a very dominant man, Stiles. I like providing guidance for my partner and taking control. Some of it is my wolf. But I think other reasons might have to do with the fire, and losing pack. And even more reason is because I’d love to watch you choke on my cock while I tell you what a good boy you’re being for Daddy,” Peter rumbles, tilting his head and flashing his eyes an icy blue.

Stiles sputters, ears turning tomato red. But even worse, his cock is throbbing with need now. Peter couldn’t know what he did last night, could he?

He wants to die when he sees Peter inhale, surely smelling his desire.

“Of course, I’d love to provide for you in other ways too. I know you aren’t eating or sleeping well, and a lot of that stress is from your job.”

“I like my job,” Stiles says defensively. “It’s just hard because of school.”

“You’re running yourself too thin, boy. So if we were to be in a relationship, even if you said no to the daddy/boy dynamic—and I doubt you will, you’d be the perfect boy—I would have you quit your job and provide you a weekly allowance.”

All of this is making Stiles’s head spin. He likes what he hears a lot, though. This could all be an elaborate trick, he tries to tell himself. And yet he’s still tempted. He can just see what Peter’s describing, and he wants it. Badly.

“Say we did...do this. What would my weekly spending money be?”

Peter taps his fingers against the table for a moment.

“To start? Five hundred, give or take. I’d ask for all your bill information from the past few months so I know what your regular spending habits are and build upon that. I want you to be happy and taken care of, always.”

He blinks. That’s...very reasonable. More than, really.

“And for everything else...?”

Peter’s eyebrow quirks.

“What about everything else?”

Fair. He bites his lip, thinking for a sec.

“What if I want the rest of what you talked about? The dating...and calling you Daddy stuff?”

He wants to die from embarrassment, but feels oddly proud when Peter looks at him like he’s done something big.

“Then we’ll talk it over and that’s what we’ll do. You’ll be my boy and I’ll be your Daddy.”

It feels like a dream, but it’s definitely reality when he starts nodding and Peter calls him a good boy.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Don’t Panic

Mycroft Holmes x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Prompt:  Hi! This is my first time sending a request so I hope I'm doing it right... Could you do a mycroft/reader where the reader is on her period and he finds blood somewhere. Thinking that she has injured herself he freaks out, before finding out what really happened. :)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: blood, swearing 

Masterlist 

Today had started off just great for you, you had the day off work and you finally had some free time to catch up on some reading you had been wanting to do for a while. Mycroft’s giant maze of a house unsurprisingly had a huge library in it and you had made it your personal mission to read every single book in there at least once. The two of you had some kind of competition without saying anything so you decided you would make use of your free time to sit in the library and try to catch up on some reading. After a couple of weeks, the two of you had forgotten the ‘competition’ and were content reading in silence, in each other’s company. The two of you could sit there for hours reading the same book and after you finished, you would talk about all your favourite parts. It was mostly you talking while Mycroft listened but you both cherished those moments together, it had been a while since you had done it. 

You had woken up later than usual, having some trouble sleeping that night because you felt oddly hot and nothing was cooling you down. You didn’t really think anything of it until you were sat down in your designated chair in the library and you tensed as you felt a sharp pain inside you. That’s when you checked your phone to see the date and realised you were due to start your period. You groaned; you had forgotten all about it, the past few weeks seemed to have just flown by. Your eyes widened as you felt your seat get warmer and it felt wet. You shot up and saw that the blood had leaked through your underwear and thin pyjamas. “Oh shit, goddamn it!” 

You prayed that Mycroft never checked his security cameras after this as you pressed your legs tight together to try and stop the blood from dripping everywhere. This helped a little bit but the blood had already started going down your leg and onto the wooden floors. With each step you took, you cursed and groaned as you tried to hobble to the upstairs bathroom as quick as possible. While there were a couple of bathrooms in Mycroft’s ginormous house, the upstairs bathroom was the only one you had thought to stock up with pads and tampons. You were really regretting that decision now. 

“Fuck, screw it.” You could clean the blood up after you had sorted yourself out in the bathroom but you couldn’t do this any longer. You ran up the stairs and into the bathroom, ignoring the disgusting feeling of your blood running down onto your foot. You yanked open the bathroom door and shimmied off your pyjama bottoms and your underwear, hurrying to crawl into the bathtub. You kicked your clothes away from you and reached into the small set of drawers next to the toilet to get out a clean pair of underwear, a tampon and a pad. Your period was pretty heavy so you always had to double up on both tampons and pads, which some girls always gave you sympathy looks for and so they should, it was awful. You grabbed the tampon first and was careful to insert it correctly before you turned on the tap to wash away all the blood over your legs and your crotch. 

While you were doing this, you were too distracted to hear the front door opening to alert you of Mycroft entering the house. He carefully closed the door and took off his jacket to hang up, putting his umbrella in a pot next to the door. He took his briefcase into his office, which just so happened to be located right next door to the library. He was too tired from working all night to see the trails in the hallway at that moment, but he would soon. As Mycroft spent equal amounts of time in his home office and the library, he had an adjacent door built in to freely walk between the rooms without having to go around. He had a feeling he might find you in the library so he opened the door without a second thought and froze. He sniffed once, what was that smell? He stepped forwards and felt his blood run cold at the sight of a blood stain on your chair. 

His eyes went wide as his gaze followed the drops of blood on the floor. He didn’t hesitate to pull out a pistol he kept in his trouser pocket and slowly approached the library door when he heard your muffled scream followed by a soft bang. He ran to follow the trail of blood on the floor, panting as he was overcome with worry, what had happened here? Were you hurt? If you had been hurt because of him, he would never forgive himself. He reached the bathroom and slammed open the door only to see you lying awkwardly on the floor next to the bathtub, rubbing your arm and groaning. He saw the blood stop at the pile of your clothes on the floor. He looked around, confused. If there was no one here, what happened? 

He reached down to help you up, trying to look over you to see if he could spot a cut or a wound of some kind. “Are you okay? I saw the blood on the floor and thought something terrible had happened to you. I promised you I would keep you safe and-” He was cut off by your laughter. Granted, you probably shouldn’t be laughing but this situation was a little bit funny to you now. Mycroft frowned at you, were you concussed? He put his hand against your forehead to see if he could feel a bump of some kind. You lightly batted his hand away, trying to speak through your laughter, “I’m fine, Mycroft, honestly.” 

He sighed in relief, “So who’s blood is this?” You scrunched your nose in embarrassment, “It’s my blood...my period blood.” Realisation was shown on Mycroft’s face as he pieced together all of the evidence, “Oh...so you came up here to..” You finished it for him, “I came to the bathroom to get some stuff, deciding I would clean it up later, I didn’t think you would be home for a little while longer.” Mycroft chuckled lightly, “And I imagine your scream was you falling out of the bathtub?” You blushed in embarrassment, mumbling out, “Well, it’s slippy.” 

Mycroft sighed and helped you up, “Well, you stay here and continue to clean yourself up, I’ll clean downstairs.” Your head shot up, “Oh no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll do it, just give me a couple minutes.” Your face screwed up in pain as another cramp came on and you clutched your sides, taking deep breaths. Mycroft smiled down at you as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, “Nonsense, what kind of partner would I be if I didn’t take care of you, I’ll be back soon with some medication and new clothes.” 

You smiled at him as you moved to sit on the toilet so you could put on your underwear and pad. You moved your dirty clothes into the laundry basket and decided to clean the blood on the bathroom floor while you waited for Mycroft to return. It was a few moments later when he entered the bathroom with a glass of water, a box of pain relief tablets and a clean pair of pyjamas. You gratefully took the water and tablets first before reaching for the pyjamas, wasting no time to change into them. Mycroft then carefully lead you from the bathroom into your bedroom, “Why don’t you lie down and I’ll get a hot water bottle for you.” Before you could ever say thank you to him, he was gone. You groaned as you laid down, feeling another cramp but it wasn’t as painful this time, showing the medication was already working but it wouldn’t be long before you needed some more. 

Mycroft wasn’t ashamed to reveal that he had done a lot of research about menstrual cycles. He thought it was important to know your partner’s body almost as well as you knew your own. No matter what the situation was, he was always going to be there to help you without any judgement on your part. He found it strange that not all male partners felt the same way, periods were a part of nature and yes, Mycroft has never experienced one himself or seen someone else deal with one until now, but there was always opportunity to learn; now he was prepared for the future. 

He came back to you in thirty minuted with a hot water bottle in hand, he had taken his time cleaning the floors and the library so he wasn’t all that surprised to come back to see you sleeping in the bed. Hopefully, you weren’t as prone to mood swings as some women were when on their period, it wouldn’t do him much good to be scared of his own partner. But then again, he would tolerate anything for you, because he loved you.

[wowcool808]

A Midnight Encounter-Part 2-Younger Brothers

Welcome to part two of this head cannon! I originally wanted to make the head cannon for the older brothers when I started typing it out, but then I figured I would miss some opportunities between Salem and Belpie. Then, I kind of gave up and decided to just do all the brothers. I think it turned out okay though, so I hope you enjoy!

To set the scene, MC is laying in their bed, staring up at the ceiling. They have been awake longer than they would like, and they don’t know what to do to lull themselves back asleep. After thinking for a while, they finally decide to just get some melatonin. Seems like a smart thing to do first, but it was all the way in the bathroom, which seemed like a mile away in the mellow darkness. MC grabs the suggested amount, and starts to move downstairs to get a drink of water to wash it down. Creeping around in an oversized, cat onesie, MC enters the kitchen and quietly reaches for the cup, when...

-Salem (#CatBoyUwU)

The air was still and quiet, masking him in darkness as he crept around in the silence. Step by step, he descended into the hallway leading into the main hall. Salem had been planning this for about a week now. He had texted Belphie about his plan only a few days ago, but he agreed to it right away. After all, Belphie would never miss an opportunity to prank Luci. The plan was to rig the refrigerator so that when Luci opened it to check to see whether Beel had eaten, a large, thick smog would fill the room and cause him to faint. It would be way easier to deal with him from there.

Salem smirked to himself after re-imagining his plan. It was foolproof. Almost every time, Luci had somehow snuck out of his perfectly crafted traps like a sly fox. Salem didn’t know how he managed to do it, but this time, he will come out on top. Well, both him and Belphie, but still. Salem arrived in the kitchen and started arranging the trap. He pulled out the vial filled with the concoction and started arranging the food in the fridge so that it would cover up any disturbance. 

After finishing he stood up and took a look at his complete masterpiece. He was making some final touches when he heard someone descending the stairs. Salem jumped up and hid behind a counter. Expecting Luci to appear, he waited in anticipation. However, it wasn’t Luci at all, nore was it any of his brothers. It was none other than MC, creeping towards the kitchen. But, wait, what were they wearing? It was big and baggy, plus it was dark black as well. As they approached, he was able to make out what it was. A...Cat… They were dressed up as a cat! Or more accurately, they were dressed in a cat onesie. 

Salem stood there in a daze, transfixed by the absolute cuteness and innocence of the silent MC as they walked further into the kitchen. Their pink ears were lit by the casting moonlight from the window, bopping along as they went. Salem realized he felt awfully hot in his face. He shook it off as he continued gazing at MC. They had just passed him and continued walking. Wait, they were walking right towards the fridge! Salem jumped up and shouted “Don’t open that!”

MC jumped in shock and turned around. “Oh jeeze Salem! What the heck!” they say panting and shaking their head. 

“Oh, sorry.” He said, regaining his composure.

“W-what shouldn’t I open?”

“Ah, right. Well, you were about to open the fridge, right? I rigged it for Luci.”

“O-oh, okay. Well, I wasn’t going to the fridge, I was just grabbing a glass of water.”

“Ah, okay, my apologies.” He said, shaking off his embarrassment. MC was still staring up at him in their oversized pajamas, and Salem had to look away to prevent himself from getting transfixed again. 

MC looked at him for a final moment before shrugging and grabbing a cup from the cupboard. 

“You said you were rigging it for Luci?” MC said, filling the void of silence. “What does it do?”

“Well, I put a couple of ounces of this powder in the fridge, and when you open it, the powder reacts with the oxygen and creates a smog that’s strong enough to make anyone in the vicinity faint.”

“Oh… well, I guess that would’ve been bad if I had opened that, huh?” MC said chuckling. “Um, so do you need any help?”

Salem turned around and raised an eyebrow. He was actually considering asking MC for help, but since they always got dragged into being yelled at by Luci, he didn’t think it would be fair for them. But, if they offered then…

“Do you really want to help? You could get yelled at again. At this point, he’s tied you up almost as much as he's tied up Mammon.”

“Okay, that’s a bit much,” they said, laughing “we all know I could never catch up

with Mammon. But yeah, I want to help. I couldn’t fall asleep anyway, so I might as well do something ‘productive’” they said, air-quoting the word productive. 

Salem stood still and thought for a moment. On one hand, he didn’t exactly need help, plus, he would feel bad if they had gotten caught and punished. On the other hand, he wanted to spend time with MC, and they wanted to help, too.  Belphie was distracting Beel, so it’s not like he could help him with the decision. He finally looked up and nodded, “Okay, yeah, you can help.”

MC did an air punch and whispered “yes!” under their breath. Salem smiled and jerked his head to the counter, suggesting to MC to hide there with him. They crouched behind it and leaned against each other, MC’s fuzzy self pressed against his side. It took all of Salem’s willpower to not melt right then and there. He confirmed in his mind that if he had dropped dead right then and there, he would be content. Salem shook his head and stared straight in front of him, awaiting his victim…

Asmo-

UGGHHH! Why couldn’t he fall asleep! Asmo had been tossing and turning all night in his soft bed, unable to even get a wink of sleep. He had never been an insomniac, so this was very bizarre for him. He could practically feel his skin drooping and winkling whenever he moved! Asmo gave up and sat up against his bedboard. He couldn’t believe it. He was never like this. Usually it was someone else’s fault when he was unable to sleep, but this time, it was his doing. Even he had to admit that. 

Asmo turned his head towards his bedroom door. He could hear someone making their way past his doorway. Maybe someone else was as sleep deprived as him? He smiled as he imagined MC walking past, creeping as to not wake anyone else. Perhaps, him? You can’t get past me that easily  he thought, as he snuck out of his bed and towards the door. Asmo opened it carefully, making sure that it didn’t give him away by creaking. By the time he poked his head out, the person was already at the other side of the hallway. They were dressed in large, black pajamas, masking their true identity. 

Asmo waited for the person to descend down the stairs to slowly follow them, a good 30 paces behind them. Only when he saw them enter the kitchen did he start to close the distance between them. As he entered the kitchen, he reached his hand out to turn on the light. As soon as he did, the identity of the dark figure was revealed. It turned out Asmo was right, because it was MC who was standing in the center of the kitchen. In a… cat onesie? So that’s why they were able to hide in the darkness. But nevermind that, MC looked so cute!

Asmo bounded toward MC and threw his arms around them. 

“Oh MC, you’re soooo cute! But, what are you doing up at this hour?”

MC pushed Asmo away gently in shock. They were still recovering from the abrupt welcome. 

“Um, well, I came for water, what about you? You’re never up this late.”

“Oh, right! Well, naturally I wouldn’t do this at my own will. I just couldn’t fall asleep! My beautiful face and skin is at the mercy of my wakefulness. I can feel it wrinkle and crinkle under my touch!”

“Oh, that’s uh, probably not good.” MC says gazing at Asmo “But, it doesn’t look bad to me.”

“Aw, thanks MC! But, I don’t need any pity, I know that it’s happening.”

“Well, if it helps, I have some melatonin you can have. That’s why I came down, anyway, to get water.”

“Oh, really? That’s so nice of you, MC! I’ll take your offer, then.” 

“Okay, cool. I still need to grab some water, though. You might want to take some as well.”

Asmo didn’t really need to grab some water. After all, he has at least 5 full bottles in his room. Good hydration is the first rule of beauty! However, he grabbed a cup of water to be courteous. When they were ready to head out towards MC’s room, Asmo took their hand and led the way. MC hesitantly followed him, even though it was to their own room. Annoyingly enough, Asmo didn’t seem like he cared that anyone would wake because of him and MC. MC, on the other hand, had to continuously remind Asmo to hush.

When they arrived in MC’s room, MC swiftly made their way to the bathroom where the melatonin was. They grabbed two pills and gave them to Asmo. He thankfully took them and swallowed it with the water. Then, he collapsed on the bed. 

“Ah… Your bed is so soft MC! I don’t know how you were unable to fall asleep in the first place.”

MC sat next to him and folded in their legs. “Well, your bed is comfortable as well, and yet you’re unable to fall asleep, too.”

“I guess you’re right. Man, you’re so smart, MC!”

“Well, not really, but thanks.” they said turning to look at Asmo “By the way, Asmo, why weren't you able to sleep in the first place?”

Asmo was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, it felt like an eternity had already passed. “Well, I’m not sure. I guess I’ve just had some things on my mind for a while.”

MC cocked their head and furrowed their eyebrows in concern. “Why’s that? What’s wrong?”

Asmo smiled and shook his head “It’s nothing crazy. I just heard something the other day and it got me thinking some.”

Asmo wanted the conversation to end, but MC just continued staring at him with eager and concerned eyes, urging him to continue. Eventually, Asmo confessed.

“Well, I heard on Youtube that apparently, no matter how amazing of a person someone is, there are always people who will disagree with you or dislike you. Now, look at me. That can’t be true, right? I put so much effort in my appearance and beauty, so how can someone not like me. No one has ever told me otherwise, so have some people just been lying to me this whole time?”

MC secretly knew this was not true. People have insulted him before (mainly his brothers), but he filters out anything that’s not a complement. Well, whatever, MC understood how he felt. The anxiety of being unliked by people, it was something they felt sometimes too.

“It’s just… I can’t imagine people lying to me about that. I’m so beautiful, and people  lie to agree with me? That can’t be right, right? If I’m not beautiful, then what am I?”

MC thought about it. It makes sense as to why this would be eating away at him.

“Um well, see Asmo, I think the video was right, there are always people who won’t like you. But, that’s true about everyone. Opinions, just like beauty, depends on the person. Not everyone can be happy with one thing, otherwise, there would be no problems in this world. I think you should use that as a strength, though. Figure out what you can improve on, then you can please even more people. You have a lot more than outside beauty, you know that, right?” 

“I do?” he asked, slightly surprised.

“Of course! You’re kind, and empathetic, and you put so much effort in everything!”

Asmo stared at the ground for a second, thinking. He then looked up at MC and smiled. 

“You’re right. Maybe my goal should just be to impress as many people as humanly possible. Maybe, without just my outside appearance…” he said trailing off. He pulled MC in a tight hug and sighed. “Thanks, MC. I feel a lot better now.”

“Egh, yeah no problem.” they squeezed out. 

“Hey MC, can I sleep with you tonight?” Asmo said, pulling away.

“Hehe, no, sorry Asmo.” 

“Awww”

-Beel

*Grumble grumble* *grumble grumble* Beel lay awake on his side, his stomach shaking his whole body. He felt his emptiness gnaw and eat away at his insides. He couldn’t stand it, just like he always did. He shifted his body and he heard crinkling around his waist. They were the opened plastic from the already-eaten snacks Beel had used only a few minutes ago. It hadn’t even satisfied him enough to fall asleep, and now he’s even more hungry than before. 

Beel sat up on his bed and started searching for anything he missed, any snack he left uneaten. No dice. Beel sighed and slowly moved to his dresser drawers, where he kept all of his leftovers from the day before. He knew the answer, but he had some hope anyways. Yup, nothing in there. Surrendering, Beel stood up and moved out the door. He always felt bad raiding the kitchen, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stand being hungry; it was worse than being bored, angry, or any other negative feeling!

Beel made his way into the kitchen, his stomach probably alerting everyone no matter how hard he tried to be quiet. As he turned the corner, he noticed a dim light in the kitchen. He walked over and looked in, and noticed MC leaning against a counter, their face illuminated by the soft glow of their phone. Thinking it was kind of weird, Beel stepped further in the room.

“Hey MC, what are you doing?” He said softly.

MC looked up, shocked. Noticing who it was, they exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank goodness, it’s you Beel. I thought you were Luci for a second. I feel like he would scold me for being up late.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m Beel.” He said chuckling.

“Hehe, yeah, I guess you are. Anyway, I’m assuming you came here for food?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” He said, rubbing his belly “so I was hoping there would be a lot of food in the fridge.” 

“Um, I checked it earlier to get an apple from in there, and there wasn’t a whole lot of food.”

Beel widened in eyes in fear “No leftovers?”

“Nope, we went to Diavolo’s today, plus, we’ve eaten the rest of the leftovers from previous nights.”

“Oh gosh, oh no.” He said, rubbing his head. He felt his body getting warmer and hungrier with each passing moment.

“H-hey, it’s okay. We have cereal and milk, don’t worry.” MC said, nervously moving to the pantry to grab the boxes of cereal. Beel continued mumbling to himself as MC grabbed a large bowl, 2 boxes of cereal, milk, and a spoon, and handed it to him. Beel looked down and noticed the cereal in his arms.

“Oh… did you grab these for me?” Beel asked MC, who nodded in confirmation. “Oh, yay, thanks!” He said, giving MC a big grin. He sat down at the table and started pouring his bowl. MC stood in the doorway, watching him. He poured a massive bowl that overflowed on the table. 

“You know, you could just pour a normal-sized bowl and eat that, and just get another one after.”

Beel paused for a moment and then shrugged “Too late now.” He shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. While he was munching, MC took a seat across from him, pouring themselves a smaller, more acceptable bowl of cereal. They were both eating when MC’s mind started wandering. They pondered as to why Beel could eat so much without gaining a single pound. Well, to be fair, he does a lot of sports and other activities, so that could be it. Still, it seems a bit odd…

“MC? You okay? You look like you're thinking about something pretty hard.” Beel said, his mouth half full of cereal. 

MC looked up at him and grinned “Yeah, that’s probably because I was thinking rather intensely. It’s just…” MC paused, searching for the right words “...you eat so much, and yet you still look amazing! I’m jealous you can still look great after a full course meal.” MC felt her body get a bit flushed once they realized how it sounded, but they shook it off. 

Beel was silent for a moment, apparently leaving the slightly unintentionally flirty complement unnoticed. He swallowed his mouthful before he started talking again. “Well, I naturally have a high metabolism. Some of my brothers have it, too. Luci and Mammon are some examples, but Asmo and Belphie weren’t so fortunate. Kind of ironic that Asmo wasn’t lucky, actually.” He let out a chuckle as he ate a few more spoonfuls.

MC looked down at their own bowl, watching the colorful, sugary pieces float about in the sea of milk. Beel reached to grab the box for another bowl while MC drained their milk. Beel sat back for a moment in an attempt to finish his original thought.

“It might also be because I work out a lot. I didn’t start working out to stay fit, but it came as a bonus I guess.” he finished. As he was leaning in to enjoy his bowl again, he finally noticed what MC was wearing: a cute, black kitten onesie with sleepy eyes and a button nose. He smiled sweetly and chucked “I like your pajamas. You almost look like Belphie.”

MC smiled, embarrassed “Er, thanks Beel.” they said. They would’ve been more flustered if it hadn’t been for his cute, comforting smile. “I got it a while ago back home, but I never cared to wear it around anyone since it seems too childish.”

Beel furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head. “I don’t think it’s childish at all. I think it’s just cute.” 

MC chuckled and looked away “Thanks, Beel, at least I know you won’t judge me.”

Beel looked at MC with a stern face. “MC, no one would ever judge you. You're basically part of our family now. Plus, look at Levi and Belphie. Belphie wears onesies like you, and Levi is basically the definition of immaturity. We still love them, though, no matter their preferences.” 

MC blinked and looked back at Beel. Beel brought up some good points, though they did seem a bit obvious, MC still hadn’t seen it. It would make sense as to why Beel would be a good supporter though, since he was often the peace keeper of the house whenever his brothers were fighting. Well, MC was still a bit better at it, but Beel is learning.

MC sighed and grinned “You have a point. Sorry about that, thanks again, Beel.”

Beel smiled his cute smile again and nodded his head, murmuring a vocal conformation. He was almost done with his second massive mountain of cereal, and he was actually slowing down. He shoved the last few spoonfuls in his mouth before sighing and leaning back. MC got up and started to put the bowls in the sink, and Beel helped them clean the table free from any leftovers. When it was all done, they leaned on the wall next to the kitchen door. 

“Well, I should probably go to bed soon, Luci would beat me up if he knew I had stayed up for another hour.” MC said, rubbing their neck.

“Yeah,” Beel agreed tiredly, “I should probably go to bed too.”

Before they left, Beel pulled MC into a massive hug. Surprised, MC jumped a little, but quickly hugged him back. They linger for just a second, with MC listening to his heartbeat match theirs. 

Belphie-

*tic tic tic* The muffled sounds of the nearby clock seemed like it was dragging on longer than it should have. Belphie had been waiting for a text from Salem for longer than he would admit. They had promised they were going to set up a plan where Salem would trick Luci into opening the fridge, where then a big cloud of smoke would collide with him and knock him out. Naturally, it would work as planned, but now he’s having second thoughts after waiting over an hour for Salem’s confirmation that it worked. Belphie’s job was to stay awake in his room to prevent Beel from going on a snack run, because if he did, then both the plan and Beel’s day the next morning would be ruined.

Honestly, the only way someone could keep Belphie awake this late was if something unfortunate would come to Luci. Otherwise, he would’ve fallen asleep halfway through the proposition. Belphie had actually almost fallen asleep a number of times, but he always woke himself up before it was too late. By this point, Belphie was getting a lot more irritated, so he decided to check on Salem just in case something had happened. To be fair, that was the entire reason as to why he waited for so long for the text: he didn’t want to be drawn into any punishment, but Belphie had already given up by the time he opened his door to leave.

On his way down, he grabbed a small flashlight to use in the case where he had to be pretty stealthy. When he arrived at the kitchen, he turned the flashlight on the dimmest setting that allowed light, and he searched the room. At the very end of the kitchen, he saw someone hunched over on the sink. Someone small...and… furry? Belphie started walking when the person turned around abruptly, recoiling slightly by the light. It was obvious who it was now, and Belphie was surprised it took him this long to identify the person.

“Well, well, well… who do we have here?” he said coyingly.

���Oh shut up, Belphie, you wear onesies too.” MC said, rolling their eyes. 

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on commenting on that, but I’m glad you brought it to my attention.” Belphie had started encircling MC like a predator encircling its prey.

“Whatever,, I’m sure you noticed it before. Anyway, what are you doing down here?”

“Hmm… I was about to ask you the same thing.” Belphie said, teasing them.

MC was slowly starting to get impatient. Honestly, they could totally take him down, with Belphie being small and “fragile” and all that. Well, it was just wishful longings; MC would never resort to violence when it was unnecessary. 

“Why did you come down here?” MC asked again firmly.

“I’ll answer if you answer the same question first.”

MC groaned. Why did he always have to make things more difficult than they needed to be? “Fine, I came down here just to get a glass of water. Was it that difficult?”

Belphie stopped encircling MC and stood across from them, hands in his pockets. “Nope. Was it that difficult to say?” MC raised their eyebrows expectantly “Fine, I came down here to meet up with Salem. We were meaning to prank Luci, but we apparently had some miscommunication, so I decided to check on what was going on.”

MC nodded, taking all the information in before speaking. “What kind of miscommunication?”

Belphie shrugged and pulled out his phone. “He was supposed to text me an hour ago to let me know if it had worked or not, but I haven’t gotten anything.”

“Oh, okay.” MC looked at him. As much as he teased them, they liked hanging out with him because they seemed to know them better than anyone. Maybe it was because they just spend the most time together, maybe it was because he was easy to talk to. Who knows. Plus, his hugs and cuddles were really warm as well. 

“Well, do you want me to help you look for him?” MC said, leaning back and crossing their arms.

“You’ll do that for me?” he said in a glamorously sarcastic voice.

“Not if you sound so unenthusiastic about it”

“Alright, alright, fine” he said, giving up.

They headed out to search the rest of the house. They mainly looked at places either Salem spent most of his time, or places he could be hung up and/or punished. They had no luck for a while, but they managed to locate Luci, who was in the secret room inside the library. They had heard the solemn music track he always listened to from a mile away. Despite Belphie’s objections, they decided to leave him be. They had searched for another 20 minutes or so before they heard a ping  from Belpie’s phone. Finally, Salem had answered. All it said, though, was Code blue: meet in my room in 5 minutes.

“Wait, but weren’t we just there?” asked Belphie.

“Yeah we were, strange. Besides, what does code blue mean?” MC asked as they ascended the main hall stairs.

“Psh, like I know. I paid enough attention to understand the main idea and my job, not whatever extra stuff Salem wanted to do for the sake of his detective fantasy.” he said dismissively.

As they arrived at the door, they noticed Salem’s light was on. 

“Huh, so I guess he is in here.” MC said, intrigued.

“Of course I am. That’s what I told you, didn’t I?” Said a voice from behind the door.

The door was open to reveal Salem. Upon closer inspection, Mc notices he was starting to bruise on his wrist. 

“Hey Salem, what happened to you? And, why do you have bruises on your right wrist?” MC said, concerned.

Salem shook his head and invited the two in his room. “You noticed? Well, turns out Luci had found out what I was doing because he installed this new mechanism on the fridge that sends alerts to his phone whenever the fridge opens during nighttime. It was made to help prevent Beel from stealing, but it found me out as well. This,” he said, nodding at his wrist, “was from when I got caught. Luci made me stay up for about an hour and a half writing ‘I will not ‘prank’ nor ‘punish’ my brothers again’. I had only just gotten back when I texted you, Belphie. It was a pretty gruesome punishment, but it could’ve been worse.”

Belphie and MC looked at each other in the same concerned yet confused expression. 

“Wait wait wait, did you rat me out? Did he find out I was working with you?” Belphie said in a slightly frantic tone.

“No, you’re in the clear. Take it as my token of appreciation for going along with my plan even though I messed it up by not being thorough.” Salem said. Belphie’s sigh of relief was hard to hide, and he didn’t care to either. “Don’t count on me doing it again, though. I might not be so sensible next time.” he added.

MC was surprised he was so calm and forgiving. After what happened, even they would’ve been furious. Plus, Salem was known for his uncontrollable anger. Perhaps he had already taken it out on something before they had come over?

“Well, you can go now. I only called you to tell you what happened. Plus, I technically didn’t invite MC either. Though I don’t mind their company, I didn’t agree to let them in on our plan.” Salem said, pushing them out of the room. For some reason, MC couldn’t help but feel the irony in that last part of the statement.

“Sorry about that Salem. But anyway, goodnight.” MC said as they entered the hallway.

“Yeah, you too.” Salem said as he closed the door.

MC waited a moment before turning to Belphie “Well, that was nice of him” 

“Yeah, it was almost uncharacteristically nice of him” He said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Hey, I heard your sigh of relief, I know you appreciated it.”

“Yeah I did. I don’t need Luci on my tail for another reason.”

Belphie and MC stood in front of the door for a few seconds before leaving for their respected rooms. Right before they split apart, they said their goodbyes, hugging each other before leaving. But, as they turned around, MC bumped into a wall. Stepping back and rubbing their head, they realized that it wasn’t a wall, but a large, black silhouette. 

“Hello MC and Belphie. Do you mind repeating what you said to Salem in his room.”

Oh crap.