#rated s for smooches

[chaikachi]

She's telling him to stop giggling, which just makes him giggle more. She's doing it on purpose cause she likes kissing him when he smiles. 🥺

[morallyinept]

Imbued - A Frankie Morales One Shot - International Women's Day

Dedicated to @undercoverpena whom is one of the most amazing, badass women ever. Happy International Women's Day, Jojobean! 🖤

I used a prompt from this list here. Prompt is marked bold in the story.

Summary: Frankie worships you and makes you feel like a Goddess. I mean, you are, aren't you?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However, Reader speaks and understands Spanish.)

Word Count: 2k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Established relationship/face riding/facesitting/multiple orgasms/some mild squirting/body worship/Frankie eats you out because he's the 🐱👑

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Happy International Women's Day! What better way to be celebrated than by Frankie worshipping you! 🫠

☝🏻Whilst we don't need men to make us feel powerful, I hope you know that you're amazing, independent and gorgeous, no matter what! The world is yours for the taking, Queen. Today is to celebrate and empower all the incredible women/trans women/bi women from all walks of life. No matter your ethnicity, your background, physical capabilities, your age - YOU matter. Be proud of who you are and know that every day, you are incredible, and you are strong. 💪🏻🌎🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Frankie is a sight to behold in the mornings. 

Almost ethereal as the sun kisses those beaming streaks over his tan, warm skin and muscles that envelope you in strong, cresting arms. 

Pink lips that truly steal the show, full and inviting, they curl into a dreamy, crooked smile that hints at a mischievous spark lurking just beneath the surface of a bruised man, who wakes with you in crumpled sheets with entwined limbs, clammy with sweat. 

Sleepy orbs of polished obsidian regard you in the oncoming glow of the golden dawn, flooding through thin linens and filling the room with an aureate haze. Thick, rough fingers glide against your cheek as the heat from his breath settles into your eyelashes. 

“Hueles tan bien,” (You smell so good) he grazes to you, nose running the arch of your shoulder. “Siempre te ves muy bien por las mañanas.” (You always look so good in the mornings.)

“Mmm,” you hum, relishing the hard prodding of him in between your cheeks. 

Smiling, your arch like a feline, stretching and working out your back from hours curled into comatose, rigid shapes around him.

Deft hands felt around your waist pull you against him. You feel him subtly grind; a thickness rutting against you, separated only by flimsy cotton and worn elastic.

Twisting to face him, you lick up the side of his jaw, tasting the salt in his greying scruff; the silk of it smooth on your tongue as you make wet tracks through the forest of grizzly hairs. Exploring all the prominent contours of his rugged masculinity, as his tall and broad body slowly cages over your own and starts his own explorations. 

His lips find yours, tongue delving in and groaning around the kisses he pelts you with, tempered with soft lips under a satiny scratch of his moustache. 

“Dime qué quieres.” (Tell me what you want.) He always knows what you want, delivering satisfaction in abundance. But hearing you tell him that you crave him never gets tiresome.

Frankie kisses down your body slowly, dragging his lips, lingering in places he knows will rile you. Collarbone, nipples, hips… smooches with a swipe of wet tongue appeasing as your hands follow his head, twirling curls around your index and middle.

Parting your legs, he kisses down your thigh, up the other one, eyes darting to yours. Soft, muddy irises, pupils already blown wide as he smirks at you. 

“Bésame.” (Kiss me) You say, as he stretches up to find your lips again. 

You shake your head, pushing on his shoulders. “Bésame ahí,” (Kiss me there) you iterate, guiding him by the chin down to your centre. 

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he groans, almost pained in its tincture. 

Frankie smiles immediately as he licks up the centre of your crotch over your panties. A wicked glint in his eye as you gasp and grin down at him.

He then slides off your cotton underwear, patched damp, without hesitation.

“Sé lo que quieres.” (I know what you want.) Frankie husks with a grin that will scorch the sun. 

Already swollen in anticipation, he licks around the outer lips of your cunt, tingles travelling deep into the layers of skin as you shudder; warm breath creating cool tracks as he goes.

He nestles, aquiline nose curved perfectly to brush against you, nuzzling gently over the protruding bump of your clit as it throbs almost painfully. Ghostly mouthing, you can barely feel it as he coats you in tepid breaths; teases and prolongs the agony until you tug on the curls behind his ears sharply with a pout.

“Then give it to me,” you demand softly. And he can never resist. 

He starts his complete annihilation of you with slow precision. Skilled tongue curling out, the tip brushing over your clit faintly. Watches you keenly with those soulful eyes sitting under thick, expressive eyebrows, perfectly arched to accentuate the intensity of his gaze, as that singular stroke engulfs your body with a jolt as you moan, ragged and wanting. 

He does it again. Flick. 

And again. Flick. Flick. Flick. 

Tongue flicking faster, rumbling back and forth with speed, your thighs jerk, ripples of skin humming.

Settles into a soft rhythm of his tongue lapping and padding delicately over the tip of your clit. An explorative make out session with your pussy as he slides his tongue around the most sensitive parts, waking them up with gentle prods and flickers.

Circling around and around, looping figure eights, spelling out his name, before his lips sink further into your folds, and he suctions around that bud, sucking on it with a deep pull. 

He works you up; your fingers gnarling in his hair, fisting in the sheets, pulling around your nipples as the frenzy begins to unfurl from a deep slumber.

Frankie licks down, tongue trailing the length of your slit, finding the indent of your hole that’s pooling for him. Scoops up the clear, dripping honey with the curve of his tongue and deposits it around the hilt of your clit as he sucks on it again. 

Orchestrating the delicate interplay of pleasure and longing. With each passing moment, the music swells, growing in intensity and depth, like the rising tide of an ocean before a storm.

He feels you raking in his hair; dark and tousled from sleep, framing his face in a halo of unruly waves that are only tamed into submission by his cap. Fingers exploring and gripping tighter around the back of his skull, wanting more, craving the pleasure he’s conducting within your core.

You’ll crash all over him. 

“I want you to come, come for me, hermosa. Déjame probarte a ti.” (Let me taste you.)

His serpentine tongue squelches through your lips quicker, drenched with his saliva, foaming with your bubbly secretions. Sticky chin, silvery hairs darker with the wet coating around his lips and cheeks, as he buries his face fully into the shrine of your cunt. 

He’s done teasing, he needs you to come. Needs to taste you flooding his mouth. 

“Oh fuck, oh my god, yes baby…” you drone, you babble, you speak in tongues. Your voice rasps as you tense and shudder.

With each passing moment, with each practised flick of his tongue, you feel yourself drawing deeper into that whirlpool of pleasure, your senses heightening to a fever pitch. Feeling the tension coiling within you, a tightened spring ready to snap at the slightest touch, cinching and pulsing.

A white noise getting louder in your ears. 

Sticky, inflamed lips rolling back, Frankie spreads you open with his blunt, stubbed thumbs; exalting in the exquisite taste of your most intimate flesh beneath his nose.

He hums in appraisal, eyes sinking back into his sockets as he closes them in rapture at his morning feast spread before him. Tonguing your hole, contracting around nothing, desiring to be filled with him, but denial is the path to imminent release.

“Damn, you look so amazing right now,” he breathes with a husk. “Eres tan malditamente hermosa.” (You’re so damn beautiful.)

You tug at his hair more, sleep-billowed curls tightly wound around your fingers as you grind against his face chasing your oncoming release. Thighs threaten to suffocate him as he puffs out of his nose and looks up at you with molten browns. 

Your back arches, a perfect curve off the mattress as you dive head first into the sun, burning up as you explode. 

He’s all speed and eagerness as he has you positioned above him, quicker than you can comprehend, and begs you to sit on his face. 

Pulling on his hair you smother him and he groans like a dying man; fingers pressing bruises into your ass as he rocks you onto his awaiting mouth. You flex and grind, moving against him as you feel it build all over again. 

“F-Frankie!” You judder, your voice a lump in your throat you can’t swallow as you gasp for breath around it. 

He rolls out his tongue; a thick, wet muscle for you to fuck and use. You rock against it, feeling it slide through your folds as you scrape back his hair, fists stuffed into the pillow. 

You take from him, seek your own pleasure and finish without his cock, without his fingers. Just worshipping you with his tongue. A simple man, flat on his broad back, his queen throning on his face. 

He imbues you with strength, the confidence to discard shame and revel in your sensuality as he watches you arch and let your hips do all the work. He encourages it, feeds it to you impassioned with fascination, desire and a keen sense of empowering your womanhood to bloom and blossom. 

This is his happy place, an exquisite drowning in you that he conveys through sleepy, subdued eyes and satisfied, wanting groans that haunt your blood.

He could die like this, your cunt leaking into his mouth as you fuck it, unabashed and free.

Strong, deft hands pull you forward, down fully onto his face until he can no longer breathe. Snuffles of misty breath fan against your mound, as he lets his tongue swim inside you, lips suctioned around you. 

He knows that even without him, you're solid granite. A force to be reckoned with. Impenetrable steel holding yourself up with the power you command from within. He’s only proud that you allow him to bask in your light, your love. The divine femininity that you let him drink mouthfuls from.

Frankie knows you don’t need his love, you choose to have it and that’s what makes him love and worship you even more. 

Rocking your hips back and forth faster, your clit brushing against his nose, the hairs on his face are felt everywhere with a pleasant scratch and tingle. 

You feel his digits pulling on your nipples, rolling them between his finger and thumb as you start to let go again. Start to feel the vestiges of your orgasm seep out of the lush garden of your ribs. 

You feel it building, crushing against your abdomen as you let go. As you give him what he covets from you. 

You give him respite, the chance to breathe as you lift yourself up for a few seconds before he pulls you back down on him with a growl, greedy for more.

He doesn’t need to breathe - he just needs you coming all over his face. 

You squirm, convulsing as you come; his arms pin you onto his face not letting you escape.

“Frankie! Fuck!” You wail as your body shakes itself of its own volition. 

You lean back, supporting your hands on his chest as you ride his face through it. The head of his cock is poking out the top of his waistband, flush and leaking onto his stomach as you reach for it. He gently taps your hand away. 

His face is soaked, the pillow drenched as beads of your slick gush down his cheeks and into his hairline and ears.

Drowning in you, pulled under that wave, succumbing. 

No, this is about your pleasure only. Your undoing.

You, you, you…

His head shakes back and forth with abandon as you grunt and shatter above him - Frankie grunts hungrily. Giant hands splay you open so he can get to every part, drink you all down. 

He whines and groans as your hand slides back down his stomach, grabbing handfuls of his pudgy hips and waist with greed.

Your fingers delve into a wet, sticky puddle of his own release spurted over his soft paunch. 

Your body, like wibbly jelly, collapses onto your back into the creases of the damp sheets, the sun in your eyes like a gold strobe. 

You smirk as the waves roll off of you, bite your lip at how a man as strong as he is, is reduced to nothing but a wet, softening mess beneath you, ejaculating on his stomach at the mere taste of you.

Desperate for you, whining, keening and clawing for more of you against his mouth. 

“Más?” (More?) Frankie grins into your face as you pant, his fingers slipping into your greased folds and teasing at your sensitive clit. 

He sucks on a nipple, tonguing it stiff as you groan, watching as he looks up at you with those beguiling eyes. Melted chocolate chips that you long to taste, cloying and sweet.

“Siempre más,” (Always more) you chime, as he trails that skilled tongue back down your body, pulls your thighs over his shoulders and takes you apart with his mouth, over and over again.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this story. Happy International Women's Day! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MASTERLIST

[krypticcafe]

i wanna know how u think 141 + König & Alejandro would react/feel about reader doing this trend with them, ofc reader doesn't upload it or anything they just record it for fun :]

if the link doesn't work the trend is basically a person is putting on lipstick and they "mess up" and their s/o wipes it off for them and the camera pans to their s/o covered in kissmarks

this has been on my mind for a while i think its so sweet 🥲 i lovelovelove ur writing!! its so good lik oml <33

Lipstick trend w/COD:MWII men

rating: teen

character(s): Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound König, Alejandro Vargas / GN!Reader

warning(s): language, suggestiveness

wordcount: ~1.6k

summary: Silly little lipstick trend with your silly little military boyfriend.

a/n: the money I'd pay to kiss these men dizzy.

Gaz

Knew about the trend for a while, was wondering if you'd do it, so it's not much of a surprise when you come to him asking about it.

Honestly, he thinks it's a little cheesy, but he's not so insecure that he doesn't want to do it, he's happy to make you happy.

Literally won't stop teasing you like "You sure you're doing this just for the trend?" when you're smooching him all over his face.

When you're done, you can't but stare for a bit.

"What, too pretty for words, love?"

"Shut up, Garrick."

"Make me."

Now his lips are a bright red to match yours<3

The recording goes pretty smoothly, but by the end of it, Gaz can be seen bursting into giggles which in turn makes you giggle a little until the recording cuts off.

You guys don't post it publicly, but I like to think Gaz posted a screenshot of when the two of you are in frame, looking at each other with goofy smiles.

Price

The last person you'd expect to be up with any trends, but it's alright, you're here to help him!

He's hesitant, only because he's a bit bashful! When it comes to these silly little recordings and any of your playful schemes, he gets a little shy about it.

But if you really bat your eyes, pout a little, maybe even tug on his sleeve...

"Please? Just this once, sweetheart?"

He sucks in a deep breath. He's a captain for Christ's sake, he's resisted things worse than this, and no amount of hellish torture has ever made him crack in the slightes-

"Pretty please? For me, Johnny?"

What was he thinking about again?

He sits there while you practically bounce in your spot while you lather on thick layers of lipstick, wondering if this will haunt him.

But all his bashfulness goes out the window when you cup his face oh-so-gently, smother him with kisses, giggling about how ticklish his facial hair is, how it nearly messes you up, how you smile proudly at your work and at him.

You swear you won't post it because you know he can't risk his reputation as a captain... but you also know nothing is stopping you from bringing it up every now and then to him.

Pulling up the pictures and videos, smugly grinning and ogling them while he groans at how smug you are.

Real proud of that one, aren't you?

Soap

"So basically for the trend I just need to put on some lipstick, kiss yo-"

"Say less."

Literally he doesn't care what he has to do, this man wants his kisses.

He'll be all "You missed a spot" when you're applying the marks on his face.

Your guys' version of the trend is a little different.

Instead, the video starts with you putting on lipstick, Soap takes it, commenting how the shade would look good on him, applying it on his lips before smothering you with kisses in the video, leaving the two of you all covered in lipstick stains.

After you wiped your face off, you notice Soap hasn't.

He's just staring smugly at the mirror, rubbing his chin, talking about how "Y'know, I think this actually looks good on me" and "Think I'll keep it on for today, yeah?"

"Honey, you can't go out like that."

"An' why not? I'm jus' wearin' makeup."

"Don't be a smartass- hey! Get back here MacTavish!"

Every day that man tests your patience, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Ghost

"You won't budge until I say yes?"

You're sitting on his lap on the bed, keeping him still, batting your eyes with faux innocence. He could lift you off if he wanted, but he doesn't, and that alone is enough of an answer for you.

"Nope."

He's trying to pretend so much that he doesn't care too much about it, that he's just letting you do whatever you want. Obviously, he's just playing along.

However, it isn't until you kiss that particular spot of his neck just right under his jaw where the stubble stops that it escalates.

"Oh? Is the lieutenant feeling ticklish?" You coo.

"'m not ticklish-" He's cut off by more kisses peppered around the area and a few extra on his face.

"Mhm, really, because," You're giggling in between your words, "When I kiss you here," He forces the fakest cough he's ever made when you kiss the same spot against, nipping it slightly. All he can do is lean back into the couch, leg bouncing impatiently, trying to bite back a chuckle or two until he finally cracks. The two of you are in a quiet fit of snickers and giggles until you finally let up.

After making the video, you silently gush over it, replaying it over and over. There's a hint of redness on his cheeks, and his eyes seem to flicker from you to the camera, it's the most flustered you've ever seen him be and you got it all on tape, lucky you.

Roach

"That's so dumb, of course I wanna do it."

Roach is all for goofy little couples trends, so it's nothing new if you ask him to do another.

"Babe, stay still would you?" You pout, "I'm gonna have to start over if you keep squirming!"

"Mmm, I think I'd like that."

"Of course you would." Rolling your eyes, you pinch his cheek and he yelps, apologizing and letting you continue. He really can't help it though, it's really ticklish for him.

It takes maybe three tries for you to get the video right, ending with one where Gary messed up your makeup for you by swooping in to give you a sloppy smooch and clumsily wiping it only to further smear it while in a fit of giggles. He claims you were taking too long so he put matters in his own hands.

"So when do I get to do you?"

"What are you talking about, that's all there is- Gary!"

"Nuh-uh, c'mere!"

Hound

He's confused as ever but agrees to it on a whim since he's often entertaining your needs and wants anyways.

As you settle on his lap, his hands rest on your sides and he looks up at you with affectionate eyes. He was looking at you like that when you were putting on your lipstick, too. You almost don't want to ruin his pretty little face, but at the same time, you think it'd look so much prettier with your kisses all over it<3

His eyes close and he stays still while you mark his face all over, even when your lips tickle sensitive spots like his scars. Patient as ever.

When you pull away, he looks like such a doll for you. Your hands cup his face and his lashes flutter open, showing those big brown eyes still giving you the same adoring look, and your chest is basically hammering. He can probably hear it, too. He reaches up to hold your hands and presses his lips against the knuckles. You swear your heart just stopped.

"Everything alright, sugar?"

Oh fuck, what were you supposed to be doing?

"Mhm." You nod frantically, face burning while his thumb brushes over a knuckle, "Y-You know, maybe we can just... tonight... haha... holdmeplease?"

Yeah... you never did quite get your video.

König

"What, with me?" He asks, bewildered.

"Of course?? Who else am I going to do it with? Oh sure, let me call up Horangi, I bet he'll be happy to-"

"Nonono! I want to do it!"

Moments later, he's sitting on the edge of your bed, hood off, fidgeting awkwardly, and watching you quietly. Now you know what he meant when they told him he couldn't stay still for the life of him.

"König, honey, you act like I'm going to hurt you or something." You chuckle, popping your lips as you apply your lipstick in the mirror. He wasn't even this skittish in bed so what had him all jittery?

Setting your hands on his shoulders, you reassure him with a kiss first on the forehead. "Relax, I just want to take a video, that's all."

"Sorry schatz, I'll behave." He hums, easing up at your touch and you smile, planting kisses all over. It seems he just didn't know what exactly he was in for.

You show him how he looks on your phone, "Thoughts?"

"Not bad..." He attempts to wipe off the marks, but you swat his hand away from him.

"You think we're done, mister?"

"Huh?" Practically pouncing on him, you cut him off with a hungry kiss, hovering your body over his. What, he didn't seriously think all you wanted was a video, did he?

Alejandro

He snickers, "If you just wanted my attention, you could've asked."

"I'm serious, Alejandro, it's a thing!" You beam, pointing to the videos on your phone.

He jokingly dismisses your claim and settles onto his office chair, looking at you expectantly. You're confused for a moment, what was he staring at you for?

"Are we going to do this or not? Don't tell me it was actually an excuse now, mi vida."

"No!" You blurt, though now you're debating if you should do this or just leave him waiting with how much he wants to tease you. Then again, you can't pass up this opportunity.

While applying your makeup, you can spot him quietly admiring you in the corner of his eye, and it nearly throws you off your game.

As you kiss him, he keeps his eyes on you, a grin on his lips. Not for a single moment does he tear his attention away from you, instead pointing at a few spots for you to mark.

"I got it, I got it," You huff, mumbling to yourself, "You're certainly enjoying this, colonel..."

Post-production, when you get up to wipe off your lips, he looks at you with offense, "What, that's it?"

"Yes..?"

"Nonono, I think we need to do it again, my way, this time." He snickers, pulling you in by the waist.

"Your way? Alejandro!" You whine without fighting back as he pulls you in for a longer kiss, all your protests forgotten.

a/n: homies i kinda regret writing this so close to valentine's day haha...

[shuadotcom]

Room with a View (M)

🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook

🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”

🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp

🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🩸Words: 6.3k

🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references

🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube

🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”

This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️

“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.

It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.

That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour. 

You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.

You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off. 

His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.

The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.

“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.

To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.

They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.

When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”

“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”

“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”

“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.

“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.

“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”

“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.

“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room. 

“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.

“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows. 

All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.

“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.

“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”

“You just seem nervous is all.”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”

“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.

“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.

“You do?”

“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”

You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless. 

“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”

“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist. 

Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.

As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.

Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.

As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection. 

“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.

“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”

“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.

You refuse to admit it works on you too. 

“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.” 

A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.

“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.

“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it. 

“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.

“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.

“Be careful, baby.”

“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.

“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”

“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right. 

There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you. 

“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.” 

“So dirty, little mouse.” 

“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.

His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.

Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close. 

There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.

“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display. 

He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.

Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.

From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.

Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.

“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass. 

“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.

“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright. 

Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.

“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”

“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.

Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?

With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin. 

The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans. 

When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth. 

Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs. 

Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.

A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.

“Did you just fucking bite me?!”

The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”

“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it. 

Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.

He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.

Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.

He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.

“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,” 

You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”

“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’ 

Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.” 

The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you. 

Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.

“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.

Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick. 

His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out. 

You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.

Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.

Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.

“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.

When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.

“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt. 

“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”

“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.

“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”

This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.

“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.

“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Both of you.” 

“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.

“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.

His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”

Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you. 

You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him. 

“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you. 

Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside. 

“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”

So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.

“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you. 

You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed. 

When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.

“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.

“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist. 

You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.

Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.

A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses. 

“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.

“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp. 

“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”

“Guess so, Gyu,” 

Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.

Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.

“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.

You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook. 

You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.

The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you. 

When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.

“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,” 

“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.

Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back. 

They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.

Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust. 

“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.

“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.

You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.

At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are. 

The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.

“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.

Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.

Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.

They’re drinking your fucking blood.

And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.

“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly. 

Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.

You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.

“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.

“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.” 

Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter. 

“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?” 

“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.

“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?” 

The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings. 

Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.

“Huh?”

“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”

You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.

“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”

“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”

“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.

When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.

“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.

Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.

Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 

When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings. 

You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.

A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.

Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉

You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound. 

Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate? 

So, you keep it short and sweet.

Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!

[poweringthroughthis]

be my valentine | park jisung

nsfw, mature content, minors DNI!

ship: park jisung x male reader

desc:(name) doesn't particularly like valentine's week, but his boyfriend is sure he can change that.

**(requested)!

valentine's week had always been a sore topic for (name). A few failed relationships that never really went past the initial phase, and the lack of ideal guys to date left the man with a bitter feeling towards the lovers' week. But all that changed last spring when he was surprisingly asked out by his upperclassman. and the most handsome one at that.

everybody could see that jisung would make the ideal partner for anyone. his soft looks, amazing personality and loving nature made (name) realize he really hit the jackpot with this one. he was surprised when jisung approached a junior, and him out of all, to go out with.

the lovebirds had quickly hit it off and molded into the perfect pair. their chemistry was off the charts and (name) finally had a relationship that constantly made him feel loved.

when the week (name) used to dread arrived again, he was no longer feeling the blues. how could he, when he woke up to breakfast in bed, and a bouquet of azaleas. the boy let out a happy squeal, hugging his boyfriend, who was looking ethereal in his plain white button-up and half-pants. jisung always has been a romantic.

(name) gobbled up the deliciousness, giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips, getting up to shower.

as he stepped out of the bathroom, he tried to hold back his reaction to the sight in front of him. jisung was sitting on the couple's bed, back resting on the bedframe and manspreading. his black hair fell beautifully on his forehead and his blue eyes bore into (name)'s figure.

he spoke through hooded lids, beckoning (name) close with his index finger. "time for your next gift babe. c'mere." heartbeat rising and feeling excited, (name) trudged over to the bedside and climbed.

jisung patted his wide thighs for (name) to settle himself on, snaking his arms around the younger's waist the moment he took his designated seat. (name)'s body towered over jisung's slightly shorter one, both men gazing into each other's eyes with love and want.

"so lucky to have you, darling. happy valentine's", breathed jisung. a smile etched onto (name)'s lips as he smacked them onto jisung's plump ones. the two started to make out, sucking the air out of each other's mouth.

jisung's hands moved up and down (name)'s torso, squeezing and grabbing the supple skin, eliciting a moan from his partner. jisung's kisses moved southward, planting wet smooches on his lover's jaw, neck, chest and stomach.

he lifted (name)'s shirt over his head, flinging it behind them. he continued his trail, his hands holding the other's waist. his tongue flicked the sensitive nipple, and (name) let out a high pitched whine, hands clutching jisung's locks.

the elder was not satisfied with the response and started to bite the bud, while his other hand played with the other. the pleasure was driving (name) mad, but he didn't want it to end just yet.

he pushed his boyfriend's head away from his chest, the latter looking confused and hurt. (name) smiled softly, caressing jisung's face. "as much as I would love to cum from this alone, I want us to cum together." the words brought a smirk onto the elder's face.

"then beg me."

(name) was slightly shocked by his sudden change in demeanor.

"w-what?"

"you heard me baby. beg me. ask hyung nicely" jisung restated.

(name) gulped, his heart rate speeding up. this was new, but not unwelcome. "please, hyung" he whispered.

"please, what? speak up, baby boy" jisung replied, enjoying the newfound power he had.

"please, take me."

"take you where?"

(name) whined. "you know where, hyung" he pouted.

jisung leaned in to the crook of his neck, kissing the sweet spot, "but I wanna hear you say it, baby."

(name) felt his breath hitch, his voice shaky, "fuck me, please."

the boys' lips were like magnets, never staying apart from the other for too long. they separated only to catch their breaths, then immediately going back at it again.

jisung grinned. "good boy" he pulled down (name)'s shorts, leaving him completely bare. the elder reached for the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. he lathered his fingers in the liquid and slowly pushed one inside (name)'s entrance, stretching the hole.

(name) winced at the intrusion, jisung stopping momentarily before he started to move his finger again. the pain slowly subsided and the younger started to feel pleasure, a moan escaping his mouth.

"feels good, doesn't it baby?" jisung spoke.

"hyunggg, more" he whined. the elder added another finger and scissored his partner, opening him up for his cock.

"you know what's hotter than having a taller boyfriend?" jisung questioned, his actions never coming to a halt. (name) was too lost in pleasure to respond so the older answered for him.

"when said boyfriend whines and begs his hyung to make him feel good" he smirked.

(name) blushed. the embarrassment and arousal were overwhelming. he knew his boyfriend was a little shit somewhere behind his sweet and caring aura, but not this much.

jisung added a third finger and the stretch was delicious. (name) moaned again, throwing his head back, and his cock aching and dripping. he was a moaning mess and jisung was enjoying the sight. he pulled his fingers out, causing his partner to whimper.

he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. his fully erect dick stood proudly and jisung spread some lube on it.

"are you ready baby?" he asked.

(name) nodded. "I'm so ready hyung" he whined. jisung lifted him and placed him on his lap, his back facing him. he lined his dick up against the hole and pushed in slowly, (name)'s eyes widening and letting out a loud moan.

jisung's dick was so thick that once he was buried to the hilt, the boys took a moment to breathe. "you okay, baby?" jisung inquired, concerned for his boyfriend's well-being. (name) nodded, letting his body adjust. he rocked his hips forward, signaling to his partner that he could start moving.

jisung pulled out slightly and thrust back in. the pace started slow, but the two men eventually got into a rhythm, the sound of skin slapping resonating around the room.

"you like that, huh?" jisung groaned. (name) couldn't form words, his head filled with clouds. the only noises he could make were the sinful sounds of his moans.

jisung slightly altered their positions so he was on top, pushing (name)'s face down and his ass up. he thrusted harshly, the new position making the pleasure so much deeper. (name) gripped the bedsheets, his knuckles turning white. his legs were shaking from the overwhelming feeling.

"ahhh, hyung! right there, right there!" (name) screamed, his prostate being hit by his partner. jisung aimed his thrusts to hit the bundle of nerves again, and again. his hand was on (name)'s cock, jerking him off in sync.

"cum for hyung, baby boy." he growled. the younger felt a coil tightening in his lower abdomen, and then released all over the sheets. his walls clenched around jisung, sending him over the edge as well.

the latter spilled his load inside (name)'s asshole, filling him up to the brim. he pulled out and laid down beside him, both panting.

"that was fucking amazing, baby." jisung smiled, kissing (name)'s forehead.

"it sure was" he replied, snuggling closer to his partner. "and to think I thought valentine's week would suck this year too".

"not with me around. let's sleep. i made dinner reservation for the evening. after today, you're gonna love the 2nd week of Februarys". jisung chuckled.

(name) was looking into his boyfriend's eyes with nothing but hearts in his own.

"hyung?" he called softly.

"yeah?"

"be my valentine, please. each year, every year."

[proxima-writes]

Dbf Joel and younger reader sneaking off in his truck to make out !!

I may have done a bit more than making out, but I hope you enjoy!

title: moments we stole

pairing: dad's best friend!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1544

summary:

It''s your dad's 40th birthday party and you can't help yourself from flirting with his best friend, Joel Miller.

author's note: if you've sent in a request, thank you!! i love you!! the biggest smooches for you!! i promise i'm working on them. hope you enjoy!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, age difference (22F and 36M), pre-outbreak, teasing, flirting, established relationship, sneaking around, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, vaginal fingering, making out, semi-public sex. let me know if any are missing!

It’s your dad’s 40th birthday party. Your house is packed with all your dad’s friends from the architectural firm he works at, including a slew of brawny construction workers and contractors that mingle among the more clean cut architects and engineers. There’s one man in particular that keeps drawing your eye.

Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller. 

He’s a contractor your dad has worked with on a number of projects over the years. He’s younger than your dad at thirty-six years old, tall and broad with gorgeous brown eyes and dark curly hair. The first time you saw him at one of your parent’s parties, you could swear it was love at first sight for your little sixteen year old brain.

You're twenty-two now as you mingle with your dad’s guests, a beer bottle sweating in your hand as you nod along to the story your dad’s colleague is telling you. Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention as Joel walks by.

“Excuse me for a sec, Richard. It was nice talking to you,” you say to the man you’d been speaking with. You follow after Joel, broad shoulders easy to track in the crowd.

He stops to talk to your dad and you slip beside him, your bare arm brushing his flannel covered one. Your dad smiles at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, sweetie, you remember Joel, right?” He asks, gesturing to him. You grin at Joel.

“Of course I do, dad. He’s been at all your parties since I was sixteen. I haven’t been away that long,” you reply with a good natured roll of your eyes. “Hiya, Mr. Miller.”

The man chokes on his sip of beer, clearing his throat. “How’ve you been? You graduated in May, right?”

“Yeah, but you already knew that,” you giggle. His eyes go the tiniest bit wide. “It’s been good. Happy to be back home.”

“I bet. You went pretty far for school.” 

“Still made it back for all dad’s parties and holidays, though. So, hopefully you didn’t miss me too much.”

You can see his jaw clenching. Your dad continues to smile at the two of you, blissfully unaware of the blatant flirting you’re throwing at his friend.

The thing is, you do know Joel. Intimately.

It started when you were nineteen. You came home for winter break but your parents had re-keyed your childhood home with some fancy biometric locks that you weren’t set up to use yet, nor did you have the physical key to bypass it.

But Mr. Miller had a copy of the key. Your dad gave you the man’s address and when you showed up, Joel had groaned and ran a hand through his messy curls.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I tried to tell your dad that I gave him that key back. But you’re welcome to come inside and wait until one of ‘em gets home from work?”

And that’s what you did. Waiting with Joel Miller turned into watching movies with Joel Miller, which turned into kissing Joel Miller, which turned into laying beneath Joel Miller and moaning his name as he pounded into you.

You saw him a couple more times during that first break, each time more explosive than the last. You went back to school with a sore pussy and a new number saved in your phone that you would call late at night, tucked under your covers in your dorm.

The secret hook ups and phone calls continued and every time you flew home to visit your parents, you’d slip into bed with Joel. Somewhere between nights on the phone and nights in his bed, you’d fallen in love. A fact that you accidentally let slip during a call, when you had to get going and you absentmindedly told the man, “Bye, love you!”

You remember freaking out about that for hours. But when he called you that evening, everything seemed perfectly fine. As you were saying goodbye, he asked, “Aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’, baby?”

That’s how you found out Joel Miller loved you, too.

“We’re very proud of her. Graduated with honors,” your dad chimes in.

“Yeah. Cum laude,” you say, emphasizing your mispronunciation of the phrase. Joel looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel.

“I forgot somethin’ in the truck,” he mumbles. “Be back in a minute.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, a hitch in his step that makes you giggle. You continue to speak with your dad for a couple more minutes before you excuse yourself under the guise of getting another drink.

You grab two beers on your way out the front door, swinging them gently as you walk to the edge of your driveway and follow the sidewalk to where it ends near the woods that border your parent’s neighborhood.

A familiar black truck is tucked away in the tree line and you smile as you see Joel Miller standing there with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his handsome face. 

“You think you’re so fuckin’ funny,” he says as you draw near. He takes the beer bottles from your hands, setting them in the truck bed before tugging you close as you giggle.

“Absolutely hilarious,” you reply. His broad palm cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his in a kiss so heated it makes your toes curl. His other hand grips your ass through the fabric of your dress.

“Wearin’ this little thing was the worst tease of all,” he growls. He hoists you up onto the truck tailgate, stepping between your legs. The added height of the truck brings his hips flush with your aching core, the hard length of him brushing against your clit and making you whimper. “Mmm, not so smart now, huh?”

“Joel,” you whine. His lips descend on yours, moving in practiced tandem, spit slick and so warm even the chill night air can’t bother you. “We don’t have much time,” you say between his drugging kisses, your words a little slurred and not from the buzz of beer in your veins.

“Don’t rush me, princess,” Joel says as he trails kisses down your neck, across your clavicle, to your shoulder. His hand grips your breast, tugging the neckline of your dress down to expose one of your nipples. He runs a thumb across the hard nub before chasing the sensation with his lips and tongue and teeth. You squirm against him as he gives your other breast the same attention.

Joel slides a hand up your leg, starting with a light trace of his fingertips at your ankle and ending with a harsh grip to your inner thigh, his thumb reaching to rub your clit through your panties. You whine again, high and needy, as he draws back to watch your face while he circles your clit. 

“So goddamn beautiful,” he says. His fingers shove aside your underwear, sliding through your slick folds. “Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Teasin’ me work you up that much?”

His groan echoes yours as he slips two fingers inside of you, curling them harshly as he pulls back before repeating the actions again and again, winding you so tight but backing off just as you’re about to explode that you want to cry in frustration.

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?” Joel teases. You pout and he chuckles, adding a swirl of his thumb on your clit to each thrust inside your cunt. “Don’t pout, you know I can’t say no to you when you look at me with those sweet little eyes.”

“I wanna come so bad, Joel, please,” you beg, rocking against his hand. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, concentrating his efforts on your clit with incredible precision. You bite into his shoulder as you shatter, stifling your moan into that goddamn flannel that makes his biceps look so good. “That’s it, good girl, fuck you look good comin’ on my fingers. Can’t wait to get you in bed later.”

Joel slows his hand before withdrawing, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean while you try to catch your breath. When he deems them clean he digs his fingers into your hair, tugging your head back to grace you with a filthy kiss that tastes like you and the beer he’d been drinking earlier. 

“I love you,” he says as he pulls away, lips tilted in a completely besotted smile that makes your heart beat triple time. It makes you so glad to be home, where your stolen moments are slowly turning into something more real, more permanent. 

“I love you, too.”

________ 

You drink your beers on the way back to the house, slipping back into the party just as your mom announces it’s time to cut the cake. You stand shoulder to shoulder with Joel as everyone sings an off key rendition of Happy Birthday to your dad, the older man smiling brightly at everyone.

He helps your mom pass out plates of dessert. When he reaches you and Joel he asks, “Did you get what you needed from your truck?”

Joel chokes on his bite of cake and you pat his back as he coughs. 

“Yeah, uh, yeah. I definitely did.”

Joel Miller taglist:

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-catals-cat @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the master list

[amywritesthings]

something in the movies. / a gojo satoru holiday one shot

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader ( jujutsu kaisen ) word count: 2.2k / rated mature summary: A romcom marathon for the holidays (and his birthday) with your colleague, Gojo Satoru, hits a little too close to home with your own accidental romcom moment.

tags: hidden inventory arc spoilers, colleagues in denial, childhood friends to lovers, holiday movie marathon, sexual tension, romance, fluff with a little sluttiness, fade to black, gojo get smooches for his birthday because he deserves it credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the fifth day of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!

When Gojo Satoru suggests stopping by your apartment for a day-long movie marathon extravaganza, you expect the usuals:

Something pitifully 1980’s with much too goofy graphic violence;

Thrillers with a twist that's solvable by act one, though Gojo insists this one will stump you;

A science fiction exploration flick that’s a little outdated but fun nonetheless.

Yet when he’s standing outside of your apartment door, his hands are full of—

“Holiday movies?”

You squint and turn your chin to observe the titles as he proudly holds them out to you to take.

Every cover is an endless array of snowy backgrounds and people dressed in all sorts of ugly sweaters, with no distinction in sight.

(He always did take his December birthday very seriously, even when you were just kids at Jujutsu High.)

“Not just holiday movies.”

Gojo corrects your assumption, stepping into your apartment without a formal invitation.

He kicks off his black shoes at your door with a smirk.

“Shitty romantic comedies."

"I've never heard of any of these," you mumble when you pluck the DVDs from his hands.

"How could you? They're only available in a discount bin, so they're guaranteed hidden gems. These babies never made it to the big screen. ”

You watch him making himself at home, navigating your apartment like he owns the place.

The world's greatest sorcerer never cares to be polite, not when this song and dance has played on repeat for ten years.

Pretending he lives here, as opposed to being a frequent guest second to your mutual friend Nanami, is just part of the norm when school is in recess.

(But you’re not dating.)

You can’t date a colleague, not really.

Although Principal Yaga wouldn’t particularly care if you did, fraternizing with someone you work with — someone you've grown up with, someone you've bled with — isn’t a leap you’re willing to make.

Besides, you’ve lived long enough as a first-grade sorcerer to know Jujutsu Society has a habit of fucking up good things, both intentionally and accidentally — so you don’t. 

Which, in turns, leads you both to a hairy situation where you’re both spending all of your free time away from the halls of Jujutsu High to do…

Well, this.  

Whatever this is.

“So you bought a bunch of… Hallmark movie DVDs?” you clarify.

“Yep.”

“And you want to binge… shitty Hallmark movies?”

“That’s hilarious. You say that like there are good ones.”

Gojo flops down on his favorite side of your couch.

He stretches his long legs out on the extended cushion, one ankle crossed over the other.

“Besides, what else are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, following him around the mouth of the hallway that spills into the small living room. “Maybe watch good holiday movies?”

His thumb catches the bottom of his black blindfold.

You never have to see his full face to know what type of mood he’s in, or how he’s looking at you: Gojo radiates his emotions like a neon shop sign whenever he’s around you.

Satoru pulls the fabric of the blindfold outward, teasing the reveal of his sparkling blue eyes.

(You’re not immune to their immense power. No one is.)

They’re not a flame to a wayward moth, but a fucking beacon.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never taken the time to binge these before.” He snaps the blindfold back in place. “They’re a riot.”

You shake your head.

“Not really in my wheelhouse, Gojo.”

“Well—”

Satoru slaps his hands against his thighs and uncrosses his ankles to stand, despite only just sitting down.

You’ve never seen a grown man so restless.

“—get ready for this stuff to knock your socks off, because I’m about to enlighten you on the true meaning of ‘tis the spirit.”

“You mean ‘tis the season?”

“Same thing.”

He fidgets with your ancient Blu-ray player you haven’t quite shelved yet as you make your way into the kitchenette connected to the living room. 

You know what he wants before you can ask — a White Russian mocktail to match your alcoholic one.

(But you're not dating.)

You mix the ingredients together, eyes following as he drops back onto your couch, long arm extended over the back.

Butterflies flutter when he pulls the blindfold off, pocketing it for later, and fixes a pair of black sunglasses over his eyes.

His hand then smooths over his white hair, curving at his freshly-buzzed undercut, and he settles in for the night.

Comfortable. 

An oasis of calm in the ever-present Jujutsu storm.

(But you’re not dating.)

And he’s right.

The movies? Fucking terrible.

Gojo doubles over when he laughs. You have to wipe your tears from laughing just as hard.

You find the back of your head dropping to the couch when you laugh, landing unintentionally into his open palm.

Satoru cradles your head safely in his hand to keep it from hitting the back of the furniture.

Two sappy romantic comedies and three drinks later—

You find yourself inching closer to the middle cushion of your couch acting as a zone of neutrality between you.

He isn’t much better, constantly fidgeting on his end. The white-haired man lets a long leg dangle over the arm of the couch, his torso scrunched in an awkward half-lay towards the middle.

With each peanut-gallery commentary and scathing review of unbelievable scenarios, you both find yourselves nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

He’s sober as can be, and you’re warm from the alcohol’s influence.

Still, it’s only a mere dusting of tipsy — you can stomach a lot of liquor in comparison to most.

And you get lost in it.

This — the comfort, the familiarity, the way the main characters of this shitty Hallmark movie are holding one another.

The Christmas Prince is confessing his love to the small-town girl that wrecked all of his plans under the cover of a gazebo while snow falls around them. He admits he was in denial about her this whole time, the big dipper in his little dipper sky— 

“Oh my god, look at you.”

You turn your face to Satoru at the record-scratch jest.

He smiles down at you, bordering a shit-eating grin.

Close.

A stone throw away.

Blinking twice, you begin wiping at your face assuming something got stuck on it. 

“What? What about me?”

“You’re swooning—” Gojo points to the screen. “—over that.”

Your jaw drops, and he starts laughing — full bellied and joyous.

“I— Shut up, I am not!” you sputter pathetically in response.

“Are too! I see you! Starry-eyed over some bad pick-up lines.”

Gojo's head tilts, snow-white brow quirked high.

“Don’t tell me this cheesy stuff actually works on you.”

You gesture with a hand to the television to protest. “He’s saying she’s his big dipper! It’s cute!”

Gojo snorts, seemingly disinterested, but he reaches forward.

Suddenly you feel his thumb run along the high point of your cheek. 

All motor functions in your body cease to exist. 

“Please, I can do way better,” the white-haired man says. “This guy isn’t even trying to act.”

All you can do is stare, flushed with uncertainty.

(When did it become a competition to woo you?)

Gojo slides his thigh off of the couch’s arm to sit up, leaning in.

Danger.

Neon signs.

You need your white flag, but you’re too curious about where this may lead.

“First of all, he’s cornering her like she’s a hostage. That’s kind of creepy. He’s all about ‘you’re my big dipper’, but what does that even mean? They haven’t mentioned any stupid stars once in this movie.” 

He drags his thumb once more with a breathy chuckle. 

“Dumbass doesn’t even hold her face right. Why’s his thumb all the way on her cheek? You gotta scoot your hand up a little so you can — there.”

Oh.

The movie becomes white noise to your own predicament when Gojo glides his palm across your cheek.

His thumb, once stroking your face, dips to your mouth.

He runs it timidly along your bottom lip—

Then softly tugs it down, and you're not sure if it's you who gasped or if you imagined the sound.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

Satoru murmurs, voice an octave lower, keeping the conversation in the space between you. 

The way the question veers this situation away from silly pick-up line mockery to something more — something real — has your body tensing.

You should shut this down.

You should laugh it off.

Your voice is barely audible when you protest his name.

“Gojo, don't fuck with—”

“I’m not fucking with you,” he interrupts, as if he anticipated you to protest. “I’m not. I'm genuinely asking.”

"Where is this coming from?" you ask.

"Just wanted to know, that's all," he mumbles in return. "Have they?"

“...people have."

You reply after a beat, purposefully watching his mouth as his tongue runs along the seam of his lips.

“In fact, I’m pretty sure you have. Before."

"Yeah?"

"Multiple times.”

“Yeah?”

“When we were kids.”

“Ha—" The mention brings a passing glow to his face. "And I totally meant it back then, too.”

He must notice the way your eyes grow wider.

“What? I didn’t have a filter when we were kids,” he says with a snort, seemingly mesmerized by the way your lip moves under his thumb. “I was too busy to lie. Still am — busy, I mean. But you stuck around.”

You look at him curiously, trying to understand where he’s going with this.

I was busy.

Sure — trying to be the best with Geto, to avoid getting corralled by Yaga, to beg Ieiri to meddle in the incessant hijinks.

In Jujutsu High, you were a year behind him with Nanami Kento and Haibara Yu. 

Quickly it only became Nanami Kento.

And, with so few young sorcerers in the world, it was crucial to befriend. To trust.

Geto defecting, Haibara dying, Utahime opting to teach in Kyoto, Shoko becoming a medical professional, Nanami choosing the real world over the land of curses—

It just left you, and it left Gojo Satoru.

For ten whole years, it’s only been the two of you — dismantling the old ways and ushering in a new wave of sorcerers who, hopefully, do not have to be in so much pain.

Your brows knit. “Satoru, where is this coming from?”

Talk to me, you want to say.

Calling him by his first name conveys enough.

“Bad Christmas movies, I guess,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer.

The short puffs of his breath tickle the lower half of your face.

“Premonitions. Reflections. The holiday spirit.”

“That moved by a Hallmark monologue, huh?” you try to tease, and his lips do quirk upwards with amusement at your jab. "And you said that guy’s speech was bad."

“It was terrible, to be fair,” he replies, “but it did give me ideas, so thanks Christmas Princess 7: Deck the Royal Halls.”

You snort to laugh, but before you can, he’s pulling your chin up and over.

Soft lips press to yours, and the world ceases.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press a second kiss to his lips.

He briefly grunts, pushing you back until you're flush with the length of the couch.

Gojo cages himself over you, hovering with a long leg dangling awkwardly off of the couch so as not to crush you.

Third, fourth, fifth — you lose track of how many greedy kisses happen.

They grow longer, deeper, and soon his tongue is flicking over your lips to ask for access.

You easily open your mouth to moan into the kiss, and you feel him shiver above from the noise.

His hand crawls up your hip, seeking the hem of your shirt — seeking the warmth of your bare skin under his large hands.

You let him.

You'll let him do whatever he wants so long as he keeps going.

His glasses begin sliding down the bridge of his nose from the sheer passion of his kisses, awkwardly pulling you out of the moment when they nudge against your face.

You laugh and Gojo pants above you, blue eyes alight with a fiery desire.

There is an overwhelming ease to this, like you’ve waited your whole lives to try —

To enjoy.

To indulge.

To live.

"Happy birthday, by the way," you pant, and Satoru grins wicked and wide.

"Thought maybe you forgot."

"How could I forget? You're only very loud about your birthday every year," you joke right back, swallowing to coat your dry throat. "Did you wanna do something for it?"

He stares down at you over the falling sunglasses, blue eyes sparkling. "Was a shitty romcom marathon not my gift? Because that's kinda all I wanted."

Butterflies invade your stomach.

"Yeah?" you breathe.

He nods. "Yeah."

A moment of heavy air and anticipation passes over you both. He still pins you to your couch, hovering. His hands never left your sides, shirt scrunched under his wrists.

“I wanted to see how that movie ended, by the way,” you add.

That makes him bark with a laugh.

“I can act the rest out for you if you let me stay.”

He’s only stayed the night a few times, each ending with never happening again.

Yet history is doomed to repeat itself.

You’ve both learned that by now.

Still? It's technically his birthday.

“Fine,” you relent with an amused exhale. “Stay.”

(But you’re not dating.)

.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

For Eternity. (A Sequel to The Orange.)

You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.

This is a sequel to The Orange, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone <3

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, a little smooching

Word Count - 2614

Author's Note - hi, me again. I hope you enjoy this part 2 of The Orange. I loved that first fic so much, and whenever I go to write Jake, it seems to occur in that universe, so I thought why not make a sequel just as sweet as the first. as always, requests or thoughts, send them my way. all my love x

Masterlist. Requests.

Jake Seresin has always been an awful dancer. Like, seriously, genuinely, terrible. It was one of the main reasons, it turns out, that you fell in love with him.

Upon first glance, Jake seems perfect. Ken Doll perfect. Cover of Vogue perfect. Carved by the Gods perfect. He’s stunningly handsome, ridiculously charming, and one of the best fighter pilots the US Navy has ever seen. He seems almost too good to be true.

Then you see him dance. And you realise that maybe he isn’t quite as perfect as you first thought. It makes you love him 10 times more.

It hasn’t stopped him, though. The two of you have spent countless nights gliding around your kitchen in your socks, slipping this way and that, jumping to the beat of the 90’s R&B that Jake loves so much. On more than one occasion, he’s twirled you around like a ballerina in a music box, sending you both flying precariously into the counters. Strong arms come up to wrap around your middle, steadying you always. He’ll never let you fall.

You didn’t realise that it was possible to fall more in love with someone every day. You can’t help but ask yourself – when does it end? When will my cup finally be full? When will I reach the limit?

Jake pulls you back every time he can see you floating away.

He holds your hand, looks at you with those aquamarine eyes of his.

He says, “I love you,” but really, he means - love is not a finite resource.

He kisses your forehead, but he’s telling you - your cup can never be full. It’ll just keep spilling over.

His soft lips find yours, and he’s promising – our love will keep expanding forever. It’ll take over the universe and everything will be beautiful.

You’re convinced you must have been a saint in a previous life to be loved like this now. You didn’t know that a human being could love another human being so unconditionally, so completely, until you met Jake.

Sitting at the bar that day, all those years ago, your universe cracked and shifted. Juice from the orange still sticky on your fingers as you dug them into Jake’s cheeks, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Salt on your skin mixing with his as you pressed your foreheads together. Citrus on your lips where Jake had licked into your mouth. It was as if the Gods above had placed the blond man in front of you and said here. Have something good for once.

You knew, from that moment on, that you would never take him for granted. No one gets to love like this. No one gets to be loved like this. It’s rare, and it’s beautiful, and it’s a gift to be unwrapped and savoured every single day. Which exactly what the two of you have done.

The minute Jake had kissed you, sitting on those bar stools, orange peel filling the air with the scent of a promise, the two of you had become inseparable.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After every late night shift at The Hard Deck, Jake would be waiting for you, leaning against the back door with a smirk on his face that said he knew something you didn’t. He’d pull you in to him, press his chest against yours, and inhale, as if it was the first breath he’d taken all day. Then he’d push you up against the side of the bar and kiss you stupid, until you both felt drunker on love than any alcohol could ever manage. He’d pull away and beam at you with that million dollar smile of his, before slipping his hand into yours and walking you the scenic route home, just so he could have an extra 10 minutes in your presence.

This routine was a daily occurrence, until one evening, you decided the fleeting kisses weren’t enough. He walks you home, right up to your front door, and presses his lips to yours in a goodbye. Just as he goes to turn on his heel, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer.

“Don’t go,” you whisper against his mouth. “Need you to love me a little more.”

His eyes blow wide, and for a split second he looks like a deer in headlights. Then, regaining his composure, he finds his confidence again.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Yeah, Jake,” you sigh, still millimetres from his lips. “Want to feel you.”

How can he say no to that, when you’re saying his name so pretty?

He shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. Placing his hand gently on your throat, he murmurs,

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Been waiting my whole life for you.”

He opens the front door behind you and walks you backwards into your house. You don’t make it more than 3 steps inside before he has your shirt over your head, kicking his shoes off at the same time.

“Don’t know how I lived without this. Can’t get enough,” he tells you. He’s looking at you so intently, you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears. The love you have for each other is filling the room, making it hard to breathe. It surrounds you, fills your lungs, makes you feel like you’re both floating. He pulls you back to his lips as if you’re his oxygen, his life source, his sanity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “I want to tell you that I love you, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Enough?” you question.

“Love isn’t a big enough word. It doesn’t even begin to describe whatever it is I’m feeling. I’m going crazy with it, sweetheart. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t want to.”

You exhale. It’s as if he’s read your mind.

“Love will have to do,” you tell him. “It’s the only word we have for now.”

He’s kissing you again, hands tangled in your hair, body pressing into yours. You’re vaguely aware that you’re both swaying, too in love to stand still. It’s thrumming though your veins, keeping you levitating above ground.

“It’s everything,” he says when he pulls back for air. “You’re everything.”

You figured that eventually, the electricity in your bones would calm down. That in time, the love would level out, and wouldn’t feel so all consuming.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been two years, and as you sit on the third floor balcony watching Jake dance with his nieces below you, you’re worried that you might spontaneously combust. The love has only got stronger with each passing day, lighting your world and guiding you through. Your body is alive with it – it’s like you’re invincible. Jake’s love is a shield, protecting you, like a forcefield.

He still can’t dance, though.

He’s picking up the youngest girl, Hailey, and spinning her around, throwing her up into the air as she squeals with delight. Of course, he then turns to Ava, and does the same to her, both of them revelling in being the centre of their Uncle Jake’s attention. He has that ability. When Jake’s focus is solely on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

That first day that Jake walked into The Hard Deck, he strolled over to the bar with the confidence of 10 men and ordered a beer from you. He gazed into your soul with those ocean blue eyes, and you could have sworn the rest of the room faded away. You’re still not sure if you were looking at each other for 5 seconds or 5 minutes. All you knew was that no one had ever been able to see you so transparently before. It was as if he was reading you like a book, with no judgment whatsoever. He saw you exactly as you were. And he loved you for it.

You’ve confessed to him the worst parts of yourself, your secrets, your desires, your worries, your shame, your hopes, your dreams – everything. And he listens. He watches you with those careful eyes, nods his head, asks all the right questions. He listens like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than talking to you. The rarity isn’t lost on you. This never happens to girls like you, you think. But that’s where you’re wrong. Because Jake Seresin loves you so much that sometimes it sweeps him off his feet. Sometimes, he has to hold onto something and steady himself because the force of his feelings for you sends him into a tailspin. The adrenaline of flying a plane is one thing, but that warmth he gets in his chest when you beam a smile at him is a complete other. No jet manoeuvre could ever give him the headrush that you do when you wink at him across a crowded room. Yes, Jake Seresin used to be a notorious ladies man – a player, a heartbreaker, a sneak out of bed before breakfast kind of guy.

But that’s because he was waiting for you. His whole life, he’s been waiting for you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re so lost in your thoughts that it takes you a moment to come back to reality. When you do, you look down and realise that Jake is no longer on the dance floor. Hailey and Ava are back with their parents, the four of them dancing and spinning to the beat, laughing as they go. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the cheeky grins – it almost feels like a vision of the future. Jake looks just like his sister, and her daughters look just like her. You know the Seresin genes are strong – yours wouldn’t stand a chance.

The evening is beginning to settle. The sun is setting, and a slight breeze blows the trees. Everyone is still dancing, singing and laughing, and the sound of it floats upwards towards where you’re sat smiling through the balcony railings. You wish you had a camera – but you also know no photograph could ever capture the joy that radiates around this beautiful setting. The lights on the barn twinkle as the dusk creeps in, illuminating the faces of the people you love the most. Bradley, Natasha and Bob are dancing, if you can call it that, while Javy, Reuben and Mickey are stood a short distance away, smiling at them like idiots. If you could freeze time, you would. You’re not sure any moment will ever be as perfect as this one.

You feel his presence before you hear him. Warmth appears in the doorway behind you, and you know without looking that it’s Jake. You can smell the familiar scent of salt, sunshine, and sandalwood. The smell of home.

“Hi, Mrs Seresin.”

He hasn’t come into your eyeline yet, but you can hear the grin on his face. He can’t see it, but you’re wearing a matching one.

“Hi, husband.”

He steps onto the balcony, and wraps his strong arms around your middle, pressing his nose into the junction of your shoulder and inhaling.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you calling me that.”

He scatters kisses along your shoulder, up your neck, and onto your cheek, chuckling as he feels you giggle against him. He turns you in his arms so you’re facing each other.

“Got worried for a sec. Thought maybe you’d bolted.”

He nudges his nose against yours, megawatt smile still plastered on his face.

“After I’d married you? What would be the point in that? If I was gonna run, I’d have done it before we said I do.”

He pinches your sides lightly, making you yelp, both of you laughing. The sound of it echoes through the air, the soundtrack to your evening.

“You okay?” he asks genuinely, eyes scanning over your face. The softness of it makes you want to melt.

“Of course I am. Just wanted to take a minute. Savour the moment, you know.”

He nods back at you, and presses his lips to yours. No matter how many times you kiss Jake, you can never get enough. You’re always begging each other for just one more. You’d stay here with your mouth on his forever if you could. You can only hope that when your time comes, you take your last breath with your lips pressed to his – a last image of your love.

“I brought you a gift,” he says when he pulls away.

He retreats into the room, and comes back with an orange in his hand. A bright, beautiful, bold ball of light in his palm. A promise.

A tear escapes your eye at the gesture. Oranges became something sacred to the both of you after that first one you shared on the bar of The Hard Deck. Neither of you can eat them in everyday life anymore. They’re solely reserved for special occasions, momentous moments.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Jake proposed to you in the dim light of your kitchen on a random Friday evening, you knew your answer immediately. You’d been dancing around, swaying in each other’s arms, when all of a sudden, he stopped moving and looked you dead in the eyes.

“Marry me,” he said with so much assurance it made you dizzy. Like he’d never been surer of anything.

“You are the love of my goddamn life, honey. I always thought soulmates were a thing of fiction, and then I walked into The Hard Deck that night and I just knew. You started peeling that orange that day and I just knew. I am going to love you for eternity – there’s no doubt about that. So, marry me. Marry me, baby.”

You jumped into his arms and kissed him so hard that the both of you fell to the floor, laughing on the cold kitchen tiles.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” you replied between kisses.

He beamed at you with a grin so bright you were worried the lightbulbs were going to shatter. You were sure yours was just as sparkling.

Jake rose from his place on the ground, reaching up for something on the counter. A part of you wonders if it’s a ring, but then he produces something better. An orange. The brightest, ripest, most promising piece of fruit you’ve ever seen.

You split it while sitting on the kitchen tiles, drunk off each other, leaning into Jake’s side like you can’t get close enough. You’re convinced it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Now, Jake starts to peel the orange, before pausing and shrugging off his suit jacket. God, he looks so handsome in his tuxedo. You think he looks beautiful no matter what he wears, but there’s something about that man in a suit that makes your knees want to give out.

He places the jacket over your lap.

“Don’t want you getting orange juice on that pretty white dress,” he smiles, resuming his place next you.

He peels the fruit and splits it in half with practised precision. Almost like he’s done this before.

You eat your halves in silence. No words are needed. You love Jake, and Jake loves you, and today all of the people you both love most in the world got to watch you declare that to each other. And now here you are, sharing an orange with the man you’re going to share oranges with for eternity.

Jake Seresin is in love with you. Nothing else matters.

[kmgkmg]

LOVE FOOL - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

word count: 0.6k…

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader

synopsis: you and your boyfriend are out and about being affectionate and just obnoxiously cute!

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, bf!seungcheol, established relationship, domestic

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: title is taken from the song love fool by exo! the fic is largely based on this pic hehe <3 first seungcheol fic so hope yall enjoy it!

“Doesn’t that sculpture look like a bunch of grapes?” Seungcheol asks you, pointing to the abstract sculpture in the near distance. 

“It does!” You agree excitedly at his discovery, to which your boyfriend lights up.

He lets his eyes wander on the sculpture for a while more before continuing to walk. The two of you were out for another one of your sweet dates, walking around the city after watching a movie at the theaters. 

Still standing in front of the sculpture, you call out to him, “Let me take some pics of you in front of it.”

He turns back, seeing you motion him over with your hands. “In front of this?” 

“Yeah! It has its own artistic aesthetic, no? Perfect for Instagram.” You explain whilst enthusiastically pulling your phone out in preparation. There were several passersby, but you continued to be unaffected by their stares, solely focused on your boyfriend.  

Seungcheol sees how much you want to take his pictures and lightly jogs back over to you. He’s used to your antics, well aware of how much you enjoyed taking pictures to remember the events of the day.

“There it is, Cheol! Your perfect smile.” 

He notices that you’re grinning from ear to ear. Seungcheol always thought your smile was infectious, but today proved it once again. Unable to contain his own joy, his smile only grows wider at your happiness. He poses with great focus, starting to care less and less about the people around you. 

“Now silly poses!” You direct him, acting playful behind your phone’s camera. He covers his mouth slightly with his hand, trying his best to stifle his laughter. 

An elderly couple approaches you, undetected by you since you were determined to take the best photos of Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s smile falters slightly at the strangers walking to you, stopping his poses. 

“Young love,” the elderly man starts, “this is the best time. Let us take pictures of the two of you together! You resemble my partner and I when we first started dating.” 

You finally look away from Seungcheol, diverting your attention to the source of the words just spoken. An elderly man stood behind you, waiting for your reply to his offer with a small smile and a hint of nostalgia behind it. The couple were still linking arms, clearly in love with each other. Your gaze drifted to their hands, noticed the wrinkled state of them, but both were wearing well-kept rings around their ring fingers. 

“Aw, we would love that!” You answer warmly, carefully passing your phone to him. 

Having not been able to hear your conversation, Seungcheol is frozen in front of the sculpture. You head in his direction, an action that only confuses him more. The puzzlement on his face makes you smirk, before filling him in. Seungcheol nods, moving over so that both of you are centered in the photo. 

He glances over to you beside him, still beaming with a peace sign placed near your face. On the count of three, Seungcheol turns and places a quick peck on your cheek. He loved giving you wet kisses, so he ended the kiss with a loud smooch. Your head whips in his direction, putting your hand up to your face to feel the wetness he left. 

Faking disgust, you rub his spit off your face. “Gross!” 

“What can I say? You make me a fool, Y/N.” Seungcheol shrugs, looking back towards your phone. 

Without missing a beat, you reply to him. “A fool? Then, call me a love fool since I’m completely in love with you.” 

You look at each other adoringly, happy to have met.

“Say cheese!” The elderly man’s spouse instructs, making you both tense up, realizing how distracted you were. 

Seungcheol mumbles through his smile, “That makes two love fools.”

[geordikisser]

pinkie promise kisses. ౨ৎ

charlie x casper | fluff & semi suggestive

☆ a/n: thinking about my yv boys frowns extremely loudly everyone in the room can hear. there’s no general direction for this little sweet write but we’ll see where it goes :-p didn’t revise this either so idk if there’s any errors,,,,,,☆

casper was working on the kitchen, back to the window as they chopped away at the carrots as drive by incubus played on their mini miffs speaker charlie bought them for christmas. casper wanted to surprise charlie with a meal before he got back from work, casper didn’t like the fact his diet consisted of pizza and calzones for dinner. so, they try to make dinner before his shift ends.

as the front door begins to unlock to casper’s surprise, they see the dirty blond walk inside. “hey cas, cooking?” he grinned at them cheekily. casper raised a brow at him, confused. “charlie? why so early?” they ask, setting the knife down. “lunch break! decided to use it to see you today.” he responded, walking his way over to them and wrapping his arms around them. hands drifting down to their waist comfortably as casper leans in and places their hands on his chest, melting into his touch. snuggling him.

“thanks. i started to miss you.” casper admits, tone flat. casper has held onto that so ‘cool’ facade a bit from highschool, it’s their last bit of their teenage years & charlie notices that nonchalant behavior from them sometimes. he knows they’re being endearing with it but have difficulty showing it sometimes. “you’re welcome my love.” charlie murmurs in a low tone into casper’s ear. their heart rate increasing & face feeling hotter. charlie knew how to slip his tongue when it counts, he is shameless with it.

charlie looks up at the cutting, admiring his clean and perfectly diced the vegetables were. “what you cooking?” he hums as casper turns back to the cutting board. charlie standing behind them as they sliced the veggies. “a simple curry. potatoes, carrots, beef. real simple but yummy.” they hum in response to their boyfriend. charlie letting out a satisfied hum in response. “i love your cooking, cas.” he said as cas smiled softly in response. “thank you charlie, i’m glad you do.” they stammer out softly, shying up a bit as they put the knife down once again. charlie begins to giggle, kissing casper’s cheek. “d’aww don’t tell me that’s what gets you!” he giggles as casper squirms underneath his grasp.

“s—stoppp!!” casper giggles as charlie burrows his head into their neck, smothering it in kisses. “i’ve said worse.” he smiles as he pulls back near their ear. “like how great you feel in my arms.” he whispers, hands trailing down a bit more to their thighs. “and how nice it is to know such a pretty thing like you is into some scrub like me who don’t know what shit bout.” he snorts. casper scoffs, letting out a giggle. “TLC mentioned?” they smirked as charlie chuckles. “so smart casper. getting all my shitty references.” he smooches their cheek as casper turns to face charlie, leaning against the counter. arms around his neck. charlie’s smile only increased their already intense heart rate.

casper’s hands massaged the back of his neck then slowly slid to face to cup his cheeks. thumb rubbing his cheek. “my pretty boy, charlie.” they sigh. “oh whatever will i do with you.” they gasp dramatically. charlie offended. “hey! what does that mean!!” he laughed as casper giggled and dramatically looked away. “my lovely boyfriend! childhood bestfriend and high-school crush!” they sobbed out. “so reckless,,” they coo sadly. charlie’s laughter continuing, a tint of confusion lacing his laughter. “casper, you’re freaking me out!! what!!” he exclaimed. “so reckless to forget i bite back!!” they growl, beginning to kiss and nip charlie’s neck. charlie gasping, and laughter filling up the kitchen. “c—casper!!” charlie pants out as his face tickled a warm red. his laughter transitioning into heavy breathing. “casper,,,” charlie quietly groans, back against the sink counter now.

“yessss?” they coo, looking up at the blond. “you want to handle this in the kitchen cuz i can get down! but it’s also just—,, unsanitary, sweetheart.” he chuckles out nervously. casper rolling their eyes as they lean back on top of charlie, against his chest. “you’re right, my sweet sweet chuck.” they sigh, nuzzling in. charlie grins, placing a hand on theo waist. “this reminds me of when we went to your house for christmas one time,, during high school.” he starts, casper listening intently. “you wanted to decorate this,, cookie house cause i’m allergic to gingerbread.” he chuckles, casper letting out a light laugh. “and even if i wasn’t, gingerbread is so gnarly anyways.” he scoffs. “but anyways, you accidentally exploded the frosting everywhere on our house and i was so mad cuz it got on my pjs.”

“i said sorry!!” casper exclaims as charlie chuckles. “i know!! funny to remember though, anyway,, i was so mad i used my frosting as a weapon against you.” he smiles fondly at this memory. “like a laser beam or a water gun or some shit.” he waves his hand around to animate his storytelling. “and you surrendered eventually ,, and u remember you said—“

“thou my liege has sense no error in his judgement.” casper and charlie said in unison. both taken aback, they begin to laugh. “and then i unarmed the frosting and sprayed you with it again!!” casper laughed, heartedly as they gripped onto charlie’s shirt. charlie giggling as he held them close. “you punk!! you remember!” he scoffs as they grin mischievously. “how could i forget! my mom was so mad we got the frosting everywhere!!” they laughed as charlie gave them a sweet smile. he looked into their eyes gently, casper slowly beginning to calm down and smile back. “remember what we promised after that,,” he asked, his tone lower than before. casper getting sweet butterflies in their stomach.

“we promised we wouldn’t do anything as stupid as that again,,” casper’s finger trails down charlie’s chest as he held them close. “and we promised to never betray eachother like we did then. and always have eachothers backs when they to the wall.” casper’s smile fades comfortably as they leaned against charlie. charlie melting into their touch. “yeah,, we did.” he affirms. “and we stayed true to it after all that time. we even remember the memory play by play,,” he kisses their head gently. “my wonderful casper. id be a total wreck with you by now.” charlie nuzzled his nose into their head. “id be a bigger one.” casper sighs. “you have no idea, charlie.” they mutter lowly. “i’ll forever remember that pinkie promise.” he laughs softly. casper having an idea.

“let’s make another.” they smile, looking up at him. charlie nods, “of course!” he lifts his hand, interlocking their pinkies together. “let’s promise to keep ourselves away from some frosting for one.” charlie laughed as he nodded. “oh for sure.” he smiles. “and—,, that we will hold each-other like this for days to come.” they look away bashfully as charlie’s eyelids lower, feeling absolutely smitten. “maybe we should,, lock this promise for sure,, yk for safe keeping.” he hums with a grin. “with what?” casper hummed curiously. charlie cupping their face wit his free hand once again, and pulls them in for a long but gentle, tender kiss. casper smiles at him, getting shy once again and burrowing their head into charlie’s chest, charlie laughing as he held them close. “you’re so silly!! cmon— you gotta finish prepping dinner tonight!! my break is almost up!!”

[chaikachi]

A sketch I've had lying around for months but decided to finish after @sakuranights1 managed to write a fic that goes with it SUSPICIOUSLY well.

You can read it here, it's delightful!!

[morallyinept]

Candles - A Joel Miller Birthday One Shot

Summary: It's your birthday and you're convinced that Joel has forgotten. Or worse, that he's hiding something from you.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Smutty - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Angst & Joel being a miserable bastard on your birthday.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Written for my birthday. Completely self-indulgent; Joel's the best gift, right? For anyone else celebrating their birthday today, I'm sending you the biggest smooch. 💋🖤

Check out my other birthday story, featuring Frankie Morales, called Birthday Cake.

MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Joel doesn't like birthdays.

His birthday, September twenty-sixth, was the day the whole world went to shit. Outbreak day.

He lost Sarah on his birthday. His watch stopped when he was shot at, so he can't be sure if it was still his birthday or not, but that day and the events are ingrained in his mind, carved into the blood smeared bone in the back of his skull.

The root of all of his resentment at how he failed to stick a bullet in himself and hold his sweet Sarah again in the afterlife.

Even before the world fell, birthdays were just another day. Another brick in the wall. But they matter to you; bending his ear constantly about imaginary scenarios and the types of things you’d do if you still could celebrate it.

He wants to tell you to quit harpin' on 'bout it, but he's not cruel, despite that reputation preceding him.

Ordinarily, your excitement at such a trivial thing of adding rings to your tree trunk would give him some morsel of joy, but not when it serves a harshly confronting reminder of everything he's lost.

He remains stoic and focused, unreadable. Life and constant, crushing hardship has turned Joel into a shell of the man he once was. He knows no peace, alienated from calm.

The ink is running off the pages in his book that you thought you could read so well in the early days. The chirpy rambling from your mouth soon dips and you withdraw, keeping schtum about it further when you see the hackles of his shoulders rise.

Your birthday has been on the approach for some time now, layers of carbonic dread forming under the skin as the days move closer and closer towards it, and it's evident that Joel doesn't share your enthusiasm.

And Joel, although resolute in his usual steeliness, seems more distracted as of late too.

The lights are on, but there’s no-one home when he looks at you anymore. Conversation has been reduced to annoyed grunts and the three-sixty roll of his eyeballs clacking around in his sockets more so than usual.

And it’s all reduced to ash as the uninvited thoughts begin to infect and plague you about the possible root cause.

You ask him, one gloomy afternoon as the rain pelts against the grubby pane in your shared apartment in the QZ. Joel invited you into his home in the embryonic stage of your courting. Cleared some space through the little that he has to accommodate you and slot you into his life this past year. Made room for you in his bed.

You struggle sometimes to remember what life was like without him, as cliché as it sounds. Almost a full, singular rotation around the sun and yet Joel feels ingrained in your blood, kindred.

So why do you feel so sick to your gut right now?

He’s pulling on his boots, a low grumble heard when he leans forward and he feels his back crack with the strain. You’re getting ready mentally for him to depart from you for a few days on a scouting run, and it gets harder each time he leaves.

“Joel, is everything okay?” You ask him, looking at him through the reflection in the glass from behind you, with eyes that tell you he knows that you know something is up with him.

More so than his usual grouchy self that you find endearing despite the fluctuating temperance. That a part of him isn’t functioning properly like it used to, and the thought of that - that you can see that so plainly when he tries his damndest to hide it from you - is disconcerting to say the very least.

What else are you hiding from me, Joel?

“What d’ya mean?” He asks, his eyes and thick fingers focused on battling with small knots that aren’t made for giant hands.

“Us.” You say tentatively like it's a foreign word in your mouth.

Taboo to announce it out loud; you've both never confirmed it wholly. It's always been assumed that you're his and he's yours.

You look at the bleak, grey of the outside world. A gated world that’s incredibly small, and getting smaller as the intrepid seconds wear on.

Questions, thoughts and images; all blinking through you trying to piece it all together whilst you move stagnantly through a heavy swamp of confusion. The exact truth is staring you in the face, but try as you might to refute it; it’s plainly obvious and it begins to terrify you in new ways.

He’s pulling away from you, has been for some time now.

You can feel it in your bones as they twist and contort under your skin mercilessly. Invading your dreams and depriving you of any sleep. Nightmarish images invade tenfold of a face you know, yet don’t at the same time.

Renegade tears make themselves acknowledged, at the most inconvenient of times, and there’s only so long you can convince Joel that it’s nothing or that of a pre-menstrual crisis starting, so he’d immediately back off.

He never pushes, never probes. And it's as equally welcome as it is frustrating at times.

Emotionally you’re a wreck and you need it to stop, or for certain realisation to bear its face to Joel. It’s been a lengthy waiting game. Teetering on the edge to realisation, although part of you already knows.

He just doesn't know how to tell you. How to break your heart. And it’s worse somehow, because he’s forcing you to do it instead.

“Ya bein’ stupid.” He says, finished with the tirade of mumbles and grunts directed at the laces, and stands.

You don’t say anything to him when he asks you to explain your odd behaviour in not so many words. Instead, you stand there, forehead propped against the mottled window, steaming up from your breath, and not facing him, sulking like a prepubescent teenager being scolded for staying out too late by an overbearing father.

You can see he’s growing testy and this irks you further. Should you finally go there, omit the truth and deal with the chips wherever they may fall? Would that even be possible?

You have to tell him what's swirling a cyclone in your mind, whether it's absurd or not, right?

His broad frame in the window reflects back at you. Stepped forward and closer now so he’s looming almost. You begin to inadvertently cower into yourself a little, arms encapsulating for warmth and reassurance, and you’re sure he’s noticed because he seems to grow in height, feeding off your inward distress. His eyes are piercing and his mouth is that thin, hard line again.

He tells you you're being stupid, but it does little to cease the heavy gnawing.

Sighing, he gathers his jacket and pack. The rifle resting on the table from cleaning it most of the early hours of the morning - and not spent in bed with you - is swept up in his hands.

He hasn't touched me in so long…

He must have observed your realisations no doubt, surely the man cannot be so blind to the plight and tension you feel when you're under his nose?

And if he took pleasure in seeing your mind switch back and forth from an aurora of amplified emotions, he certainly hid it fucking well from you.

Joel turns to you before he disappears outside the door. You cling onto a desperate hope for a moment that he’ll leave something soft to accompany you; give you some affirmative reassurance and confirm that your stupidity, is in fact, that.

But he doesn’t.

He simply shuts the door behind him and leaves you floundering. Your eyes prickle, but the tears don’t fall.

You’ve cried enough now over Joel Miller.

Your birthday arrives, the dawn spent waking up in the bed alone without Joel’s warmth suffocating you; his tan skin sticking you to him.

You can't remember the last time he was inside you. A part of you.

Despite wanting to indulge in dysania, to sink into a despair that's been riding shotgun with you for a while, you will yourself up to continue with the monotony.

The day is spent as though meandering through a blur, your body robotically doing the things you’re supposed to, but your mind not being fully coherent.

Get up, eat a little something bland, exist… and so on. It's just another day. You don't even know why you expected anything different. You're foolish for even thinking it.

Your brain ticks continuously whilst your limbs belong to those of the infected that try to ravage you any chance they get beyond the walls of the QZ.

But what about those unanswered questions and coincidences floating around the apartment and jabbing you in the temple?

Joel’s disappearing acts and seeing him weary and more dishevelled when he did eventually reappear again? It's difficult to accept that you're replaceable. That the space you once fit in has been filled by something else.

Someone else, perhaps?

Your stomach lurches and you barely make it to the bathroom before you bring up all your fears and watch in numb disgust as they flush away. Piecing it all together to make any sense is a doom filled thought.

You're tired. You've had enough. You only succeed in confusing yourself further and are rewarded with a brewing migraine. And as you throw yourself onto the bed to get some rest to quell the ache behind your eyelids, you conclude that you now utterly despise birthdays.

Confronting him has to be the only option, but bravery’s lost to you; hidden away under the dank comforter, pulled up tight over its head, refusing to surface.

You're in the shower later that evening, washing away the day, when Joel returns from the scouting run.

You hear the sounds of the door rattle and his heavy sighs, even over the water flooding your ears.

But as you come out, hair dripping down your shoulders, he’s already left abruptly again, sealing you in with once more the claws of your festive loneliness.

You make you both some supper. A few cans he’d left on the table with peeling stickers and some without. The smell turns your stomach as you stare down at two plates of uneaten food that had long since gone cold and wonder how the fuck you've got here.

It's late when he comes back, startled somewhat to find you still sitting at the table. Glancing down at the food, his eyes soften and then they find yours, vacuous and empty.

You're not even pissed at him anymore.

Before he acknowledges you, you freeze momentarily and can’t abnegate yourself from looking at him, as much as you want to avoid it. But each time you falter, his hatchet eyes are staring right back at you, sending prickles all down your back.

The comprehension is a difficult task itself, but you're fruitless in your attempt to disentangle it all, even if you aren't going to be the victor in this battle that you're bound to lose.

You're going to lose him.

Perhaps you already have. You want to remember his face, so you take it all in as he hovers by the door; a large hand twisting and groping at the knob unconsciously as it squeaks around the crush of it, a nervous tick.

He’s anxious, worried. He wants this to be quick and painless. As do you.

Even if Joel has completely no idea what's been happening, surely he had to know how this situation cuts you open, how you're bleeding onto the floor.

How can he not see it?

You feel no animosity towards him at this precise moment, which confuses you further, but more of a sense of intrusion. You aren't ready for this now that he's actually here.

Joel's reaction is unguarded and you can see him looking at you, somewhat askance, around the crinkled edges of his eyes. You soften a little and let him have a final smile from you.

Something for him to remember you by.

“I have somethin’ I wanna show ya.” He says, quietly to you.

You look at him carefully as you baulk.

“What is it?” You question, suspiciously.

“Just… c'mon.” He holds out his hand, an olive branch, and you stand.

You don't take it as you follow him out into the scabby hall where the wallpaper peels and the carpet still has that burnt umber stain of blood from decades ago.

He leads you towards the stairway, heading up them and you follow, still confused.

Once you reach the top floor of the building, and the door that leads out onto the roof, Joel slightly out of breath as he rests for a second, he instructs you to close your eyes.

“Keep ‘em closed.” He murmurs to you and you feel his hand inside yours now.

Skin on skin. It makes you audibly gasp at the warmth of his touch and you remember how he feels as it tugs the remaining strangled beats out of your heart.

Joel’s hands are always warm, even if he wields death about so freely with them. You feel his grip tighten in yours, guiding you down the stone steps out onto the roof where the cool air of the dark autumnal night pierces through your thin, moth-eaten sweater.

“You’re not planning on pushing me off the roof, are you?” You snicker. But it would be a kindness, considering.

You have your other arm out in front, feeling your way, blindly.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Joel mutters. There’s a smile inside of his words; you can hear it, although his tone is hard like granite. You miss that smile.

Your feet are clumsy as you step and you wobble.

“I got ya.” He steadies you, his other hand on your hip and the feel of it makes your skin burn up in a corona. It strips you of your breath.

He stops and lets go of you completely after a few more steps.

“Y’can open ‘em now.” Joel whispers to you. You can feel his breath against your ear and it leaves you feeling warm despite the nip in their air at the new altitude on the roof.

Despite the fact that you're slowly dying.

You take a breath. A slow breath to steady your nerves. You're not sure you're ready for it. Perhaps if you can keep them closed, it will never happen.

You won't have to watch him walk away.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when you finally open them, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

But it's anything but. It stuns you.

The roof is lit with candles; hundreds of them, maybe even a thousand there's so many. All various sizes, thicknesses, colours and in different states of burn, casting eerie, yet brilliant shadows across the brick walls.

They trail all the way across the rooftop towards you. Flickering in the gentle night’s breeze, it invokes an immediate tranquil state within you, and the warmth emanating from this gloaming wonder is enough to stop the prickles on your skin almost instantly.

"Joel..." you murmer, perplexed.

It must have taken him ages to set this up, and you’re momentarily lost for words in the confusion that makes itself known at the back of your throat in dumb astonishment.

Joel watches as you walk amongst them, slowly taking it all in and holding your palms out to feel their warmth kissing at your fingertips.

The surprise and wonder spreads out on your face as you turn back to him in wordless disbelief.

“Made it with a few seconds to spare.” He glances at his watch, then realises it’s still broken, still a constant, crushing reminder strapped to his wrist, and then beholds you with a crooked smile melting away.

You look back at him, with a frown starting to topple your awe.

“Ya thought I forgot,” Joel confirms.

You shake your head. “No. Just thought you didn’t care about it, is all.”

He steps forward to you, the flames flickering all around you both. “I care 'bout you.”

You feel your heart stop beating for a second. “You didn’t have to do this...”

“I wanted to. I know m'a grouch and-”

“Joel. Stop talking.” The low timbre of his voice jars you. It's gentle in its gruffness. And it’s too much as your eyes well up without your control, without your say so.

“Hey,” he turns your head to him, to face him head on. His thumbs smoothing across your cheeks as you grip onto his thick wrists.

“I thought-”

“I know what ya thought. S’not gonna happen, okay?” He says earnestly and for the first time in what feels like a long time, Joel pulls those inane fears out of you and stamps on them until they’re all dead.

You nod, sniffing the tears back with all your might, but they fall in your stringent relief anyway.

“C’mere,” he crushes you into his stacked chest, the soft ebb of his heartbeat the only sound you can hear as it clears out the dusty crevices of your mind.

You pull away to marvel and feel the balminess from the candles all over your body.

“See, it’s things like this that make me believe you’re human after all,” you whisper in complete awe.

He frowns. “Ya wrong ‘bout that.”

You scoff. “Are you kidding me? Look at this, Joel. At what you did, for me. It’s... amazing. Are you seriously going to tell me that a monster would do that for someone, because I don’t believe that?”

He can see the reflection of a thousand or so candles in your eyes, twinkling back at him like glitter.

After being lost in them momentarily, he rubs up and down your arms with his hands.

“Y'don’t believe in monsters, do ya? Even when the world's full of 'em?” He questions carefully.

“Not in the slightest. People are just people.” You reply. Although some of them admittedly more fucked up than others.

“What 'bout people who do bad things?”

You look at him sincerely. And it makes more sense now. There's still a wall there. “They’re still people.”

Joel absorbs your answer, the answer you always give him when he gets like this. When he needs you to convince him there's still good in the world, because you're good.

When he feels unworthy.

“D’you believe that a man can ever be changed of his ways?” Joel asks.

“People can always change, if they really want to. Why?”

“Hypothetical question.” He replies, quickly.

“Do you really believe that you’re a monster, Joel?” You ask him carefully.

You watch as he kicks up a piece of grit on the ground repeatedly, unsure of whether he'd heard you at first.

“Y’don’t," he begins and makes his way back after losing it for a second. "Y'don't make me feel like one.” He mutters with rust in his throat.

You take his hands, those giant, calloused paws inside your own and squeeze them until he can’t feel them anymore.

He looks at you, and it bothers him more than it should do - more than he would have liked it to - the thought of you at home alone, especially on your birthday, thinking that he was going to leave you as he was filling his pack full of all the candles he could scavenge in and around the QZ.

Months of planning and keeping this from you, and you thought he was going to say goodbye. Surely that's monstrous, for him to have allowed it to get so bad.

He failed you. He made you feel unworthy. And that doesn't sit right with Joel Miller.

He watches as you stare a while at the candles, flickering in the night’s air with the inviting sound of silence to accompany you both.

No thrashing heartbeat, no thudding of blood pulsing in your ears. No static.

Just a strange peace, which has seemingly gorged on all the confusion, all the angst and fears that had been mounting within you for so long.

He goes to speak, clears his throat of the block, and then chokes on his words as he tries to assimilate them together into something coherent, something meaningful.

You turn to him sensing his unease and it equally fascinates and infuriates him that you can do that; that you can put him at ease to get them out without sounding like a bumbling fool.

You sense that what he wants to say will be relevant and would give you what you need, but you never expect him to say, in all your remotest dreams or fears:

“I love ya.”

He’s known it for a while. Felt that this was more than just two people surviving and fucking together through the dark nights to feel anything more than just pain and existing.

Joel had poked his head in the bathroom one evening, watching as you’d showered after a rough day and a close call; your body mottled with dirt and bruises and he’d felt it then.

That overpowering need to protect you. To keep the bad things at bay, even if that meant he had to do some bad things in exchange. His soul was a fair price to trade to keep you by his side. And what's love, if it's not protection?

Helping you out with a towel ready for you, bubbles splodged all up your back and glistening at him, he realised that perhaps he was falling in love with you.

He didn't want to be in love with you though. He wanted to keep you at bay, to not let you in under the layers of his skin. Not let you unravel what was left of him; a small thread wound so close to the spool.

Love would make protecting you that much more difficult.

He was never confident in negotiating all the social interactions that came with dating, especially in this world now. It was foolish to bear your heart because at any point it could be ripped away and eaten.

But with you? His heart was always on his sleeve, soaking it damp in his blood. Whatever this was between you, it felt easy somehow, like breathing.

Joel could finally breathe.

There was no choice in falling for you. And Joel never wanted to make another choice ever again.

You reach up on your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on his mouth; revelling in the feel of his mustache and greying scruff tickling soft at your face.

A feeling that if you never got to experience again, the way it leaves lightning streaking through your blood, would kill you.

You slip your tongue into his mouth and he welcomes you in, squeezing you closer to him and groaning around your taught gums. You lick gently across his bottom lip before taking it in your teeth and pulling deep growls from him.

“M’trying to be a gentleman here, darlin’. But if y’keep doing that, I’m fuckin’ ya up against the wall.”

His breath trips up in his throat and your body soars at his warning as it rolls acrid and sharp off his tongue into your mouth, forcing you to taste his cavities. To taste his promises.

He still wants you, he’ll always want you despite your stupid neuroses.

You bite and suck his lip again deliberately, and he growls.

"Ya leavin' me very little recourse."

“I love you, Joel.” You gasp as your hands grapple and devour him just as hungrily. Breathing out like a balloon losing its helium, you pant and moan for more air; for more of him.

He’s quick, like steam; power marching you backwards and your back hits the brickwork, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

The shadows of the night dance over his hard facial features and he glows ethereal at you from the candlelight illuminating his left side. A constant ying-yang of who he is and you want both sides of him, forever.

You want the distant and the present. You want the soft and the rough. You just want him.

"Say it again" he hisses.

"I love you-"

He silences you with a swamping kiss. Joel’s wilder now; like a rabid dog drooling all over you. His hands are clawing, groping and squeezing.

Quick, desperate fingers stripping you of your jeans and unbuttoning his own at the same time; a messy blur of his hands as you stay glued to his lips and taste the notes of his tongue.

He massages the soft fat of your buttocks, malleable warm flesh in his giant hands as he kneads gently with thumbs that’ll bruise. You can feel his cock pushing hard and swollen against your slit as he moves your ass back and forth, pulling you closer to his body.

Closer to the broken fragments of his soul.

"Joel…" you whine into his mouth with pathetic need, fingers curling into the hair at his nape.

"Tell me what ya want, darlin'." He sucks on your lip and lets it go with a little squelchy pop. Lips and tongue trailing across your jaw and feasting on the skin at your throat.

"You. Always you.” You mewl mesmerised as his cock slides up against your clit; your body flinches like it’s been electrocuted. You’re crashing, falling into him and surrendering. "Need you."

"Want me inside?" He groans as you nod, lost to the heated desire that burns through your body and drips down your thighs.

"Deep. Hard." You plead. You crave his chaos, it's been so long since you tasted it. "I need you."

"I want ya." He groans.

"Have me, fuck me. Joel, just fuck me, please!"

Hungry brown eyes are pulling yours into them as his swollen head delves into your soaked lips. His stretch burns, opening you up for him again. Sliding with ease into the hilt of you, where he ultimately belongs.

"Hear that? Hear how wet ya are for me? God damn..." He teases, pulling you closer by your ass cheeks as his fat cock pushes up inside the tight channel of your cunt.

You hiss as he pulls up your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he hoists you fully up against the wall. The brickwork is rough against your skin, despite the protective layer of your sweater that grazes against it as he starts to pummel.

He loses all control with you. Can never keep his shit together as you unravel him from that spool completely.

"Fuck," you groan, biting down on your lip as he fills you. His breath leaves him in a wheeze and floods your face as he thrusts in and out; marvels at how well you always take him until he’s completely obliterated.

You can feel yourself soaring, higher into the sky as it holds its arms out for you ready to pull you in. Only he knows how to take you to this height, to this place. A place where, for a moment, only you exist, the two of you, on this bleak rooftop, surrounded by decades of carnage.

But it’s all stripped away in his groans and your pants as you feed each other your imbibed love in a world where everything dies.

In a world where physical gifts are pointless and sparse tokens of fleeting affection, he does the next best thing. Joel gives you something that he knows you’ll always want.

He gifts himself to you.

“Ain’t ever leaving ya, y’hear?” He sounds off in your ear through reckless pants and groans that suffocate on the floor below you. “M’here, always here. Fuck!” He spits. "Gonna be inside ya always, darlin'."

You grip onto him, meeting him with every shunt of his hips into yours, feeling him continuously bottom out as the light from the candles start to blind you over his shoulder.

Feeling your mind grow and body start to pull apart. Feeling the wall scuffing and blistering against your flesh and revelling in the delicious masochism it evokes as he fucks you hard agasint it.

Fucks you like he’s never letting you go.

He laments it over and over. And you believe the sincerity.

“Harder.” You beg, your fingers digging into his shoulders; your nails leaving crescent moons indented in his neck.

"Joel, fuck me harder, please. I want it all."

“That’s some big smack talk for a little lady.” He pants with a smirk.

“Joel!” You whine as he speeds up, giving you what you want so wholly and irrevocably. "Fuck! Yes!"

Your howls of insistence are stripped of any sanity or verbosity as you let go fully and gush around his cock, right to the root.

Pumping himself harder into you and hearing you scream, feeling you buck with the pleasure of it all on the end of his cock as you shake and give him the best of yourself. The parts of you that are only for him to keep.

The part where you're completely stripped back and bare, and he can see you. And you're so fucking beautiful.

And it's right there, he can see it, that love you have back for him as your eyes come unstuck from the back of your head and stare into him as you can see all of him; bruised and fleshed with vulnerability.

Watery with relief, with the fading ebbs of your pleasure. The acceptance of this piece of him he's plucked from his chest and plopped in your hands.

And it's his complete undoing.

Joel grunts out your name as he releases, giving you the final pieces of him as he fills you full of his warm, thick spend.

“Fuck…” He drones, your arms tight around the back of his neck as you slip down the wall onto jellied feet.

His hands stay on your hips, cock slippery and poking you in the belly. Sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he tells you he loves you again on a barely there whisper.

You steal another glance round at the candles, their light blinding your retinas and searing this moment into your mind forever.

You kiss him and he kisses back harder, deeper; a man ravaged of affection, yet he still has small, bloodied parts of him left to share with you. Even if it fucking terrifies him.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” Joel whispers.

You don’t need to blow out the candles and make a wish.

You’ve already got everything you want, right here, in your arms.

Thank you so much for reading this lil' birthday fic of mine! 🎉 Re-blogs & comments are always appreciated & fuel me. 🖤

MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

[terabyteturtle]

Hello my fellow gamer! 😁

May I please request headcanons for Bayonetta, Joker, Sora, and Zero Suit Samus reacting to their female S/O surprising them at the Smash mansion and spoiling them with delicious food like this?

Yay, my first SSBU request! That food looks so good, I don't think I could choose just one picture. Anyway, I hope you savor this just like the fighters would savor that food!

Bayonetta

- "Why, thank you darling, I'm famished!"

- She will eat the entire plate and then ask for seconds.

- Bayonetta has the best table manners you could possibly imagine. Even if she's ravenous, you'll never catch her eating like a wild animal, especially not in front of you. She looks so elegant while she eats and somehow manages to never get a single crumb on her face.

- She will happily feed some to Gomorrah. It may be a spawn of Satan, but hey, demons need to eat too.

- Speaking of which, Gomorrah now loves you for this.

- She'll make sure that you have some too; she refuses to eat unless you eat with her.

- As a pleasant conversationalist, she has plenty of things to talk about. Bayonetta will happily listen to whatever you might have to say, but she'll definitely be the one to direct the conversation.

- She adores your smiling face as you both dine with delight.

- Between you, Bayo, and Gomorrah, there will be no leftovers; every last morsel will be gone.

- After you're done, she'll give you a big hug and a smooch, thanking you again for the delicious meal.

- You better believe that she will return the favor when you least expect it.

- After you're done eating, she'll insist that you relax while she cleans everything up.

- If you still have room in your stomach, Bayonetta will probably pamper you with dessert. Don't try to deny it; you'll only end up losing the fight.

- "Oh please, after all you've done for me, you deserve it, darling."

Joker

- The first thing he'll notice walking into the mansion is the smell filling the air.

- It's an amazing scent, and he'll be pleasantly surprised to see you in the kitchen.

- He doesn't even realize how hungry he is until he sees all of the food there, waiting for him.

- He'll eat so much, it's not even funny.

- Morgana will tell him to slow down numerous times, and Joker will completely ignore him every single time.

- You and Morgana will have to keep an eye on him because there's a large possibility that he might choke.

- He nearly did choke at one point, which was super scary.

- If Morgana tries to steal some, Joker will swat his paw away.

- He'll definitely have more than one plate of food. Good thing you made extra.

- When he first starts eating, he'll wolf everything down and all his manners will go out the window. As he continues, he'll slow down to a normal pace and eat like a normal person.

- He'll apologize afterward for being so messy and will help you clean up afterward.

- Leftovers for later? Hell yeah.

- Expect him to ask you for the recipes. He totally isn't gonna steal them to impress his friends back home.

- He'll give you a sweet kiss on the forehead as thanks for everything you've done for him.

- Post-dinner cuddles! That meal hit all the right spots, and the best thing to do now is to relax and let everything settle.

Sora

- He'll get SO excited.

- "Woah, this is all for me?! Thanks!"

- He'll eat way more than you expect him to. You'd never think that much food could fit inside his stomach. He'll just keep eating and eating and eating some more.

- You'll have to hide some food if you want leftovers, because at the rate Sora will go, it won't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

- He wants to show his appreciation as much as he can, so he tries to eat a ton. Sora won't wolf everything down, but he'll eat at a quicker pace than one should.

- Sora thinks everything is delicious; he literally has hearts in his eyes from how in love with the food he is.

- Looking up and seeing you chuckling and smiling at him makes everything even better. Just knowing that you made the food fills him with joy.

- He won't stop thanking you for everything. He'll say it ten times before he even starts eating.

- He keeps trying to talk to you while he eats. You constantly have to remind him to swallow his food before he starts speaking.

- When he's finished, he finishes it off with a big burp and leans back in his seat, hands patting his stomach. He'll thank you for the thousandth time before getting up to give you a hug.

- Ten minutes later, Sora'll get a massive stomachache from how much food he ate. He doesn't mind though; in his eyes, it was all worth it.

Zero Suit Samus

- She'll be shocked at first. All of this food is for her and her alone? No, this doesn't feel right.

- She'll feel bad that you went through all of this hassle just for her. But once you reassure her that it's no trouble at all and you're more than happy to cook for her, that tiny smile of hers will finally appear on her face.

- Samus insists that you eat with her. You've done all this hard work, you deserve to sit back and relax for a change.

- Out of all four characters mentioned here, she is the most calm about the whole thing. Don't mistake this for a lack of care; she greatly appreciates what you did for her.

- Out of all four characters, she's also the one who leaves the most leftovers. She wants to make it last; it sucks to spend hours on food only to have people eat all of it in one fell swoop in nearly half the time.

- She remains quiet for the most part, listening to what you have to say without interruption and only giving input when necessary.

- You can see the gratitude in her eyes as she consumes everything.

- Afterward, she thanks you calmly and helps you clean up.

- After a wonderful meal like that, movie night is a must.

[hotchaways]

pov: your instagram but you’re dating aaron hotchner (part 2)

Liked by jenniferjareau, spencer.reid and 90 others

its(Y/L/N): the love of my life and aaron :) #wheninlondon 🇬🇧

view all 28 comments

itspennyg: WEEEE LONDON!!! have the best time my lovely furry friends 💘

↳ its(Y/L/N): aaron did not enjoy the furry friends BUT we’ll get you loads of penelope coded things :) miss you!!

e.prentiss: oh coffee is the love of everyone’s life ❤️

↳ jenniferjareau: mine would be cheetos

↳ its(Y/L/N): we know that. your breath smells like cheetos

spencer.reid: i believe (Y/N)’s love language is to bully hotch

↳ jenniferjareau: it’s so weird to think about because he’s our unit chief…..

↳ aaron_hotchner: the bullying never stops in the hotchner household

↳ its(Y/L/N): don’t forget the loaf of bread and baguette retaliation :)

↳ aaron_hotchner: jesus christ please stop with the breads

↳ e.prentiss: no (Y/N) keep going with the breads

Liked by daverossi, e.prentiss and 95 others

its(Y/L/N): “no, coco is mine.” and do you think coco enjoys being in your arms 🤨 #dognapper

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spencer.reid: what is even so endearing about that rat?

↳ its(Y/L/N): no clue why i started dating him honestly

↳ e.prentiss: it should’ve been our ship that sailed 🙄

↳ derekmorgan: hotch gotta watch out for emily, she’s about to steal his girl

↳ aaron_hotchner: she’s right, she’s out of my league. i don’t know why she did either

↳ its(Y/L/N): AARON, BABY :( i love you, you’re the one out of my league

↳ aaron_hotchner: also, emily– why not make the ship sail with cheeto breath?

↳ itspennyg: LET THE JEMILY SHIP SAIL 🚢🤍

↳ jenniferjareau: man when will i ever stop being called cheeto breath I HAVE A NAME

Liked by daverossi, spencer.reid and 88 others

its(Y/L/N): cause of my death: my boyfriend in a polo shirt playing golf 😩

view all 17 comments

derekmorgan: any news about the women fawning over him?

↳ e.prentiss: we haven’t received texts in the group chat so im assuming all is well (for now)

↳ aaron_hotchner: she followed me like a lost puppy and publicly displayed her affection to make sure they knew.

↳ jenniferjareau: well! looks like you’re not gonna be attacked by bread this time

↳ its(Y/L/N): no he’s gonna be attacked by bread when we get home

↳ daverossi: i just have to say– why do you have to attack him with bread?

↳ itspennyg: so she doesn’t waste money buying a weapon and if she attacks with bread, she can eat it afterwards, mr. holy pasta man 🍝🧔🏻‍♂️

↳ aaron_hotchner: (Y/N) just said it’s because she can and she will…not because she found out about the soccer moms fawning over me from the clubhouse this time

↳ e.prentiss: the bread retaliation will literally never stop

Liked by jenniferjareau, itspennyg and 91 others

its(Y/L/N): my handsome boyfriend being all grumpy and it’s tempting to smooch him all over 🥺

view all 18 comments

e.prentiss: you both are my close friends but you have to tone the mushiness down at work

↳ itspennyg: NO LET THE LOVEBIRDS BE. PENNY LOVES LOVE 🤭❤️

↳ jenniferjareau: penelope you’d be glad you don’t have to be with (Y/N) out in the field because she goes feral when she sees hotch with kevlar vest

↳ its(Y/L/N): uh no i don’t. psh kevlar vest? nah doesn’t look good on him. i don’t know what you’re talking about

↳ spencer.reid: your respiratory rate increases whenever you see hotch wear that and in general your pupils dilate when you just see hotch

↳ its(Y/L/N): go choke, spencer

derekmorgan: she wants another dog, doesn’t she?

↳ aaron_hotchner: yeah. she saw one at this little adoption event held at the park last week

↳ daverossi: you’re about to give in, aren’t you?

↳ e.prentiss: the silence is loud, of course he’s going to give in to her

Liked by derekmorgan, e.prentiss and 84 others

its(Y/L/N): why has he not looked at me for the past hour :(

view all 24 comments

derekmorgan: i smell jealousy in the air 👀

↳ spencer.reid: who? hotch or (Y/N)?

↳ jenniferjareau: have you not seen hotch’s eyebrows go deeper than it usually is, spence?

↳ e.prentiss: sulky (Y/N) is also my favorite version of her

↳ its(Y/L/N): i just want my boyfriend to give me attention :(

↳ daverossi: guess aaron’s still a jealous man when it comes to detective peralta aka that goofy detective here in brooklyn.

↳ aaron_hotchner: i don’t know what you’re talking about, dave.

↳ itspennyg: sir hotch, don’t you worry! detective peralta is in no way infatuated with our (Y/N) because he’s happily chained to detective santiago

↳ spencer.reid: i don’t know whether i should thank you for this penelope, but i did not miss the mushiness of lovesick (Y/N)

↳ e.prentiss: aaaaand we’re back to the madly in love hotch and (Y/N)

Liked by jenniferjareau, itspennyg and 89 others

its(Y/L/N): i am gifting everyone with young aaron hotchner because i simply cannot stop swooning

view all 13 comments

aaron_hotchner: sweetheart, i love you but– this is embarrassing.

↳ e.prentiss: this feels almost illegal to see. what even happened to you?

↳ jenniferjareau: i seriously cannot believe this was hotch

↳ itspennyg: HOTCH??? I AM??? IN ABSOLUTE SHOCK??? 😧

↳ spencer.reid: just erase the wrinkles and lessen his eyebrows a tad bit, we’ll come up with the image of the present aaron hotchner.

↳ derekmorgan: boss man must’ve gotten a lot of ladies

↳ its(Y/L/N): my man’s so handsome though. present or past >:( also morgan, no

↳ aaron_hotchner: my girl :) and morgan, i do not want to bread to be thrown at me

↳ daverossi: she’s saying that so you could let her get that dog.

↳ its(Y/L/N): literally go choke on pasta, rossi 😒

Liked by daverossi, derekmorgan and 97 others

its(Y/L/N): someone sent jack and i to run errands just so he could send me this selfie saying “come home mama” 🥺 HE GAVE IN TO ME. welcome to the hotchners, cooper! 🐾🤍

view all 19 comments

e.prentiss: i simply cannot believe how much of a simp hotch is for you

↳ derekmorgan: she should make him give us more weekends 😉

↳ its(Y/L/N): your wish is my command my lovely friends

itspennyg: every time (Y/N) uses ‘welcome to the hotchners’, i forget you two aren’t married :( WHEN WILL I HEAR THE WEDDING BELLS 🙈👀

↳ aaron_hotchner: soon enough, garcia.

↳ jenniferjareau: hotch, im gonna need you to pay for my ear check-up because (Y/N) just called me to screech into the phone

↳ spencer.reid: yeah, you’re gonna need to pay for two check-ups.

↳ e.prentiss: make that three, she busted out my ear drums. put a ring on her now, hotch

↳ its(Y/L/N): EXCUSE ME I DID NOT SCREECH IN YOUR EARS 😒

↳ aaron_hotchner: i heard you from the sidewalk when i threw out the trash, sweetheart.

↳ daverossi: i don’t know whether i should be terrified or amused. but im gonna need that (Y/L/N)-hotchner wedding soon.

A/N: im enjoying way too much with this fake social media thing and this makes me yearn more for our favorite grumpy dilf 😒 ANYWAYS i hope you love it, lmk what you think :)

ps. yes i did put brooklyn 99 in the cm universe 🤭 just want my crime fighting worlds to collide <3

click here if you wanna be a part of my taglist for my future works!

tagging my lovely hotch girl nation: @ssamorganhotchner @14buddy22 @allthefandomstogether @sbeno22 @1234-angelika @fandom-life-12 @sprentiz @themoontoyourshine @aaronhotchy @singinginacargettinglostupstate @gspenc @616wilsons @fadingpersonaspyexpert @thenewnormalforensicator

[deancas-stabfest]

STABFEST 2022 WRAPPED

GREETINGS, STABBERS

Last year was the debut of our precious child, DeanCas StabFest (FUNSIZED), and in the very humble opinion of the mods, it was a smashing success! we promised to bring you guys some stats to explore how the fest went down.

NB: The data is skewed more towards the fic, rather than the art. we know this, and we are sorry. we love love LOVE all the artists, and want to explore all that metadata as well, but we also want to protect copyright. The metadata for the fic is accessible manually from AO3 (the mods have been toiling in the spreadsheet mines for weeks), or was provided to us by the participants via the masterpost form. However, getting more metadata on the art would require us to feed the full images into an analysis program, and we just can't trust that data won't be misused.

The art metadata that is present in this Wrapped was attained either by human eyeball, or by using Jasc Paint Shop Pro 7.02, which was released on March 5, 2001 and does not have online capabilities. It has plenty of other capabilities, okay. Do not underestimate the grampa software. There is a HOT WAX filter. Also it was paid for ONCE. none of that subscription crap. suck our dicks adobe

NB2: STABFEST WRAPPED is not about competition (except for competing to make StabFest 2023 even more unhinged than 2022.) We are not ranking the participants; we are lining everyone up to give them a smooch on the forehead. There will be a few individuals mentioned here and there, but every team has oodles and oodles of data that we've been crunching, and everyone was part of making DeanCas StabFest 2022 into this handsome, virile beast.

Missed the Fest, or want to refresh your memory? Check out the MASTERLIST:

Part One

Part Two

You can also check out the StabFest2022 collection on AO3.

Alright, let's go!

Pitcher, Catcher? Author, Artist?

DeanCas StabFest 2022 (Fun-sized!) had 33 teams: 27 in the regular bang and 6 in the reverse bang. 31 authors and 25 artists participated. Three people participated as both author and artist, leading to a total of 53 participants. One person was on multiple teams as an author and four people were on multiple teams as artists.

Author/Artist switch hitters: KaylieMalinza (teams 4, 10, 12, 27, 200, and 600), Maple (teams 28 and 15) and Swirlycloud (teams 16 and 20.)

Mega Author: MBQ (teams 13, 14, and 15)

Mega Artists: Biscuit_tin (teams 100, 21, and 13), Lauryn T. (teams 22 and 27) and Mortea (teams 19, 25, 500, and 700.)

(yes, the two participants who were on the most teams (5 and 4) are the mods, but this was a pinch hitter/oh god the reverse bang is too smol situation okay don't look at us like that this isn't like the scene in chocolat where the antagonist breaks into the candy shop and gorges on everything this was SACRIFICE for the SAKE OF THE FEST. also it was fun and the mods regret nothing.)

What It Says On The Tin

Of the 33 teams, 22 of them showed STAB in the artwork and 7 of them referenced STAB in the fic title. (this was interpreted fairly loosely--if the STAB was imminent or the aftermath was visible in the art, and if the title held any mention of stab, cut, slice, etc. we counted it as a yes.) Of the 26 fic which did not reference STAB in the title, 3 did reference the stabbing implement.

You Must Be This Tall To Ride

Of AO3's four ratings, the majority of the fic were rated Teen and Up, and the next most common rating was Mature. There was only one brave fic rated General Audiences--but that may have more to do with people rating higher than needed out of caution. No one wants a nastygram from a puriteen who thinks Disney is too risque and scary for children. Anyway--the MPAA doesn't give official ratings to fanfic. We go on vibes, and reader beware.

Yeah, I Figured That Much. What Are You?

Of the artwork, 22 of the entries were digital art, 10 were traditional/physical, and 1 piece appeared to be mixed physical and digital (we were guessing on traditional vs digital art and may have gotten it wrong sometimes! sorry.) A 1:2 ratio of traditional to digital was a very pleasant surprise.

The STICKERS had a pretty good spread, too, with notable outliers being only 1 team receiving the Rebar of Shame and a whopping 18 teams receiving the Cannon of Canon Complicity. In total, 50 stickers were awarded. Special shout out to MBQ, who managed to qualify for every sticker across their three entries. The Rebar of Shame would have been so lonely without you.

Weapon of Choice

Speaking of rebar, there was a tasty variety in the stabbing implements used. 8 teams had multiple implements, leading to a total of 41 implements. Far and away the most used implement was a knife--5 instances of the OG demon knife, and an additional 14 knives of various types--cooking, hunting, ka-bar, etc. , for a total of 19. The runner up was the angel blade, clocking in at 5 instances, with arrow and sword coming in behind at 3 and 2 instances, respectively. The most exciting implements, however, are those which were unique, only one instance each.

Of all the implements, we estimate that 34 of them were used for their intended purpose--needle, syringe, and scalpel, for example--with 8 very special implements being employed "off label."

We can beat those numbers this year, team!

Let's make 2023 StabFest off label AF.

According to the Lore

Of the AO3 tags, it should come as no surprise that there were 33 iterations of STAB, and 30 iterations of Castiel/Dean Winchester (tabulated separately from Castiel & Dean Winchester--some fic were tagged with both.) The Sam Winchester character tag also showed up 19 times (not including variants such as "Injured Sam Winchester," pairing tags, or, a mod favorite, "pray for sammy.") Canon made an appearance in 22 tags--including Canon-Typical Violence as well as Canon Elements, Canon Compliant, etc. Angst and Blood showed up in 11 and 12 tags, respectively.

A few more tags were cherry picked for the chart below; including every tag would be very difficult, since the 33 fic were tagged with a staggering total of 372 unique tags.

The mods would like to give a special shout out to the freeform tags. They were delightful in situ and tantalizing out of context. Here are our top ten favorites, in no particular order:

a frankly concerning number of references to Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah (All That Remains, by DoctorProfessorSong)

author was craving s'mores while writing this (Hunger Pains, by Followsthebees)

copious use of frog analogies?? (apologue of the boiling frog, by howldean)

dean is re-hymenated and as smooth as a baby's bottom (Rescue Burrito, by KaylieMalinza)

But Dean Forgives Him Because He's Smitten (Just Like Knitting, by FriendofCarlotta)

cas has a metaphorical c-section in here and that’s all you need to know (Fill Thyself with the Word of God, by themauvesoul)

Sam and Cas come up with a crazy idea and Dean counts to ten in the background. (The Good Old College Try, by silver_penny)

Cas triggers his own trauma by jerking off to the wrong thing (eros and thanatos, by autisticandroids)

oh well it's Cas what would you expect?! (Dusk When I Met You, by MiracleofWinchester)

There is also taco salad somewhere (Happy Kitty, by MBQ)

The mods also, with glimmering eyes and trembling hands, present a gold star to the tag that Understood The Assignment:

Apologies for attempted murder doubling as intricate rituals also (By your hand, by SlopeSlippers)

Thanks, buddy. StabFest feels Seen.

My True Form is Approximately The Size of Your Chrysler Building

As StabFest is FUN-SIZED, it should come as no surprise that most of the fic had fairly low word counts. With a required minimum of 1,500, 5 fic were between 1,500 and 2,500 words, and 8 were between 2,500 and 3,500. With a grand total word count of 183,643 spread across 33 fic, the average word count is 5,464--but since the median was only 4,397, then clearly the three fic with word counts over 15,400 were outliers adn should not have been counted.

The stab-free zone between 10k and 15k requires further study. 🧐

The art sizes had no measurable minimum--the rules just stated one art piece minimum, with no details about dimensions, resolution, etc. Some curious numbers shook out, though.

The width of the pieces ranged from 500 to 2048 pixels, with a median of 1280. The height ranged from 386 to 4716, with a median of 1280. (NB: some artists did multiple pieces for a single team, such as a main art piece and a banner, or multiple main art pieces. E.g., that 4,716 comes from three pieces of 1572 pixel height being combined.) In total, the StabFest art from all 33 teams is 36,433 pixels wide by 41,378 pixels tall. Perhaps some enterprising soul can convert that to football fields.

File size, as reported by Windows Explorer, ranged from 49.1kB to 4670kB with a median of 638.5kB. Bear in mind that some of these pieces would have been resized by tumblr or another hosting service, and of course, multiple pieces for the same team are added together. The total size, based on the files currently available, is 25630.08kB, or 25.63MB.

Certain People, Special People, Can Perceive My True Visage

What's most fun is the little option is Jasc Paint Shop Pro 7.02 to show the number of unique colors. These ranged from a minimum of 11,323 (The art for Forest Fever) to a maximum of 894,465 (the art for Light Me Up With Your Ardent Sword--hi res versions available on AO3), with a median of 95,293. You'd think the sum of the unique colors would be HUGE--and yes, if you add up all the numbers you get a whopping 4,616,209--but of course there's going to be a lot of overlap.

After combining all the StabFest art into a single MEGAZORD, like the Power Rangers, we see that the number of unique colors is much smaller: 2,272,549. That means there are 2,343,660 colors which are shared by at least two entries. Isn't that sweet? It's like the art is holding hands.

Because The Mods Commanded It. Because We Have Work for You.

Well, that wraps up StabFest2022 Wrapped. If you had fun last year and want to see what StabFest Wrapped2023 will look like, please check out the new features (femslash!! new stickers! A DISCORD) and mosey on over to the sign up form. And please take a gander at our promo post tag and see if something catches your fancy for a signal boost.

[makeandshift]

Will Neff S/O // relationship headcanons

some Will Neff content because he is a precious bean that deserves more recognition 💕

The most open communication in a relationship ever. No problems telling each other if something they did is bothering them, if they are feeling like shit. 100% transparency policy in this household.

He is her biggest hypeman. Anything she does is amazing in his eyes and he will not let her speak lowly of herself or her accomplishments.

Just the most gentle and gentlemanly guy ever with her, her being comfortable comes above everything.

He totally gets lost in thought staring at her at least once a day because he always thinks she looks fantastic.

He just LOVES making her blush, thinks it's the cutest thing in the world.

Calling each other by their full names, which starts out as a joke but it then just turns into a thing they do.

Totally the kind of couple to say that they'll never get married because it is just a piece of paper, and then suddenly they show up with rings on their fingers.

Watching the lowest rated movies on IMDB together and then reviewing them as if it is high art.

He totally wants to make it into a regular thing on his stream because he thinks her takes are hilarious.

Bestie!Hasan who is basically constantly their third wheel. They constantly try to set up dates for him as well.

Will, despite hating kissing, will still give her at least one (1) smooch a day just because of how happy it makes her.

As a joke gift he totally gives her a pile of 'kiss coupons' that she can redeem at any time, which she totally does of course.