#she'll break my fucking knees

[localplaguenurse]

MY FUCKIN BELOVED @mayhapsart WENT TO COMIC CON YESTERDAY AND SHE GOT ME MY FUCKIGN HUBSAND AND MALEWIFE (I'LL LET YOU DECIDE WHO IS WHO)

I GOTTA BUY FRAMES NOW BUT LOOOOOOOKKKKKKK

[solarsturniolo]

Nothing // M.S.

by Natalie 💋

summary: Inspired by the song Nothing by the Script

tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44

warnings: lowkey kinda heart wrenching / drinking / borderline addiction / swearing / toxic??

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional! I am aware that the triplets are sober. This is a little thing I like to call 'story telling'.

text - reader

text - matt sturniolo

Word Count: 1739

So I stumble there, along the railings and the fences

I know if I faced her face, that she'll come to her senses

Every drunk step I take leads me to her door

If she sees how much I'm hurting, she'll take me back for sure

“Please be up. Please be up.”

“...mmph…Hello?” 

“...H-Hi.” 

“What is it?”

“...C-Can I come over?”

A heavy sigh. “No, Matt-”

“Please,” he interrupted her, afraid that if he didn’t she would hang up. “I miss you.”

“How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I haven’t-”

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

“Fuck- fine, six,” he mumbled, sniffling sharply and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I had six-”

“Six what, Matthew?”

“I…I-” he paused, sniffling again. “I miss you, can I come see you?” 

“No, Matthew.”

“Stop it,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stop calling me that, you never call me that.”

“You need to get some rest. I’m calling Nick-”

“No, d-don’t go. Please.”

“Matt, you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“I just need to see you again,” he stated, sniffling again. “Please, I…I’ll leave you alone if you let me see you one more time.”

Another sigh. “How do you plan on getting here.”

“I’ll dr-”

“No you will not.”

His heart leaped. She still cares. She doesn’t want anything to happen to me. There’s still hope. “Uber?”

“Where are you right now.” 

He looked around. “Outside.”

“Is there anything around you?”

“Trees?”

“Where are Nick and Chris.”

“Insid-”

“You make my blood boil,” she groaned. 

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped. “I miss you. I-I love you.”

“Stop.”

He sniffled again, a chill running through his body. He pulled his thin jacket tighter to his body. “Can I come see you?”

“Matthew, where are you.”

“I c-can get an uber, or I can walk. I don’t mind walking-” he whispered, his voice breaking again. He sniffled. “Please, I need you. I need to see you and hear you and..and feel you.”

“Matt, are you safe? Where are you. I need you to answer my questions.”

“I’m at home,” he mumbled. 

“Where.”

“The driveway.”

“I will send you an uber, but this is the last time.”

Click.

___________

The knock at the door startled her, despite anticipating it at any moment. She got up from her spot on the couch, making a beeline for the door. She opened it and in stumbled a drunken Matt, who dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms gently around her thighs. He rested his cheek on the plush of her thigh. 

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She would give in if she did. She could hear his soft sniffling and the sound of his lips leaving soft kisses to her thigh. “I’m s-sorry, please look at me. Please say something.”

“You can’t keep doing this, Matt. You have to let me go.”

He sniffled again. She felt the warm dampness of his tears on her skin. “I c-can’t.”

“You have to.”

“Please don’t make me,” he sobbed. She finally looked down at him, her heart aching at the sight of him clung to her legs, completely broken. “I need you, I can’t-”

“You need to find a way,” she insisted, reaching behind her to take Matt’s hands out of their interlocked state. He refused, holding her tighter. “Matt, you need to let me go.”

“You’re all I have,” he hiccuped, looking up at her with watery bloodshot eyes. His lip quivered, a tear rolled down his cheek. “I-I have nothing without you,” his voice croaked. 

She sighed, sinking down onto the floor. She gently stroked his cheek, wiping the tears off of his face with her free hand. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

He sniffled. “I don’t want you to go, p-please,” he begged her. “Don’t leave me.”

“You know I can’t stay with you,” she whispered to him. “You do this to yourself every night. I’m so worried about you, Nick and Chris are worried about you.”

He looked at her, his face blotchy and red from crying. His eyes were even bluer than normal. “Y-You are?” he asked, leaning into her touch as she held his cheek. 

“Matt, everyone’s worried about you,” she replied. “You have so many people that care about you, why are you torturing yourself like this? It kills me seeing you like this.” She brushed his messy hair out of his face, looking into his glossy eyes. 

“Please- one more chance,” he pleaded, moving in close to her. He rested his forehead against hers, their noses gently brushing together. “One more…I can’t lose you. You’re the only person in this world that I want,” he continued. 

“Matt…”

“You’re the only girl I want to wake up next to,” he whispered, his hand coming up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb delicately tracing her chin. His lips ghosted over hers. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You’re the only girl I wanna take out and show off, you’re the only girl I want to lay next to at night. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I…I’m so fucking scared. I’ve never been this vulnerable and open with another person before,” a soft sob fell from his lips. He bumped his nose gently against hers, their lips grazing. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll go away,” he stated.

“Matt-”

“Say it. I’ll never bother you again, I’ll never call or…or show up uninvited again. But you have to say it,” he whimpered, his eyes opening to look into hers. His free hand cupped her other cheek. “Please look at me,” he pleaded.

She pursed her lips, opening her eyes as well to look at him. As soon as she looked into his deep blue eyes, she felt herself melting. Matt’s gaze softened, noticing her more relaxed state. He leaned in to close the gap between them, only stopping when he felt her cold fingers touch his lips. 

“You have to let me go, Matt,” she whispered again.

His lip quivered, a whimper getting caught in his throat, tears threatening to spill once again. “Say you don’t love me,” he repeated.

She stayed silent once again. She couldn’t say it. She knew deep down that she loved him, and that a part of her always would love him. 

“I can get better, I can be better,” he continued, looking down at her with tearful eyes. “All I want is to be better for you-”

“You can’t go a single night without drinking yourself dumb,” she stopped him. “You can’t change, Matt. You’ve had the opportunities-”

Matt shook his head in disbelief. “Please, I-I know I can change-”

“You can’t.”

She went to stand back up, her heart shattering as he clung to her for dear life. “N-No, please,” he hiccuped, his fingers digging into her clothed hips. “Please,” he sobbed, looking up at her with his glassy blue eyes, his pupils blown out and bloodshot. “Don’t…Don’t push me away. Don’t push me out,” he whimpered. 

She stood her ground, refusing to look down at his pathetic state. She refused to touch him, knowing if she did, she wouldn’t be able to let go of him. “I’m calling Nick.”

“I’m begging you-”

“I can’t let you stay again. I can’t keep letting you hurt me.”

Matt’s lips parted in disbelief, a stray tear rolling down his cheek and falling from his chin. “Hurt you?” His eyes glossed over with pain, one that he had never known before. “H-How…What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips, her eyes closing as she tried to think of the best way to word what she wanted to say. “You always do this, Matt. You come over, you do this every time. I always give in because-” a pause interrupted her sentence, her questioning if she should say it out loud or keep it a distant shout in the back of her head. “Because I love you, and…I can’t not love you.”

A glimmer of hope replaced the sorrow in his eyes. “I never stopped loving you,” he spoke, his voice wavering, his nerves shot from the lack of control he had over himself in this moment. He rose to his feet gracelessly. His hand felt cold as it touched her cheek, though the gentle caress of his fingers on her skin made her melt. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you, let me prove it to you.” He watched her face, examining any little change in her expression. Please don’t let me go. Please don’t push me away. 

“I can’t go through this again, Matt,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “You have to promise me-”

“I promise, I promise. Fuck, I swear on my life,” he enveloped her in his arms. “I promise,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her head. He felt her arms snake around his waist, hugging him back, and he nearly collapsed as relief flooded his body. “I love you so much,” he mumbled softly into her hair, kissing her head again. 

“We have to start slow,” she spoke softly, setting her boundaries. “I can’t jump right back in like none of this ever happened-”

“I know,” he replied. “I know, that’s fine, I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“You’ve sobered up quite a bit,” she sniffled softly, and it was only then that Matt released his embrace, pulling away to look down at her. She looked up at him, smiling softly as a tear rolled down her cheek, glimmering in the moonlight. 

His thumb brushed across her cheek, wiping the tear from her face. “Why are you crying?”

“I missed you, Matt,” she replied. It felt like a stake being driven into his heart, it stung. All of those nights of him wallowing in his own self pity, wasting away his potential, all of those nights thinking she loathed him, thinking he would never be able to feel happy again; It was all in his head. None of it was real. She never felt that way about him. She waited for him, she loved him through his mistakes, through his flaws, through his lowest moments. Nobody had ever been so loyal to him before, apart from his family. Nobody had ever waited to catch him when he fell. 

“I missed you too.” More than you could ever know.

[flkwh0re]

Broken

Warnings: Mechanic! Natasha, G!p, Age gap, Public sex??, Mommy kink, Pretty much smut with no plot.

Summary: Your car breaks down, luckily the hot mechanic can help ;)

A/n: Sorry that this is so short and not the greatest :((

You had a long day at work, and you just wanted to be home curled up on the couch with a good book but no. You were currently on your phone trying to quickly get help, because you car broke down. Call after call you finally got someone to come help. She was a tall, buff woman, covered in grease. Her tank top hugged her abs wonderfully, and you couldn't help but stare.

"Evening sweetheart, I'm Natahsa." She spoke out, you returned a small awkward smile. " Hi, Y/n." You reply shyly, her demeanor slightly intimidating you. You guide her to your car, but you're absolutely clueless as to what happened so you try your best to explain. "Don't worry about it, I'll find out sweetheart." The way she spoke gave you butterflies.

You watched her closely as she bent over the hood of your car, soft grunts escaping her lips as she searched for the problem. "Ah, there." You hear her say, hoping that she's found the issue. You watched as she raised up, "Sweetheart, do you mind seeing if your car will start now?" God that name is going to kill you. You slide into the driver seat, turning the key and the engine roars to life. A flow of relief washing over you.

Natasha walks up to the door, "Welp, there ya go." You smile, thanking her. "Oh uhm, how do I pay you?" She smiles, "Just a check will do." You begin to rummage around for your check book, with no luck you try to find your wallet in hopes she'll accept cash pay. Your heart drops when you realize your wallet isn't with you. "I can't find my wallet." You tell her, fear lacing your tone. A smirk paints her face, "Don't worry about it sweetheart. Come with me." You get out and follow her to the other side of your car.

She unbuckles her belt and unbuttons her pants. "Wait what?" you stutter out. "C'mon pretty girl get on your knees and suck mommy's cock." You're just utterly confused, but you do as she says. You drop to your knees and help her remove her pants. Your fingers slip into the waistband of her boxers. You mouth drops open, when her cock jolts out. She has to be a whopping nine inches, with perfect veins gracing her length.

Natasha smirks, watching you react to her size. You wrap your soft lips around her tip, swirling your tongue. Her hand comes to your head, guiding your mouth down to sheath her cock in your mouth. She thrust her hips, fucking your mouth. Sounds of gags fill the air, you just pray no one drives by.

"Fuck, you look so pretty sucking my cock like that." She chokes out, as her head is thrown back in please. You continue taking her cock down your throat, bringing her quickly to her orgasm. A mixture of cum, and saliva drip down your face. "God look how pretty you look." Your face turns a light shade of pink at her praise.

She helps you up, and starts to unbutton your pants. You try to protest, but you're so eager for her you can't bring yourself to do it. She slips her hand into your pants, fingers gently grazing your slit through you panties. "Fuck baby you're so wet." She growls. Her hand slides into your panties teasing your clit ever so slightly, her hands rough on you.

Natasha removes your panties completely, then brings her fingers back to your pussy. She adds her tongue into the mix, softly licking at your clit. Her fingers slip into your aching hole, and her lips wrap around your clit. Your legs are so weak then feel like they could give out at any moment, so you try and hold onto Natasha the best you can.

To your luck, no car has driven by yet but that doesn't stop your worry. "Natasha can we please hurry." You ask weakly. She smirks into your pussy and mumbles, "Why sweetheart? Scared someone's gonna see you getting your pussy ate? Don't worry mommy won't let's that happen." The name she called herself made you groan.

Natasha sped up her pace, and swiftly brought you to your orgasm. She stood up and bent you over the hood. "You gonna be a good girl a take mommy's cock?" She questioned to which you eagerly nodded. You felt the head of her cock gently rubbing against your slit. She pushed her length into you, fucking you slowly so you could adjust to her size.

"Fuck you feel so good around mommy's cock, it's like you were made for me baby." She rasped. Your walls hugged her cock so well, it drove her insane. The sounds of you moans, her groans, and skin slapping could be heard. You were sure that if someone drove by you wouldn't even notice, but at this point you just didn't care anymore. You needed her.

"Fuck baby, mommy's gonna cum. I'm gonna fill you up so good." She slammed into you at a godly pace. Her hands that were on your hips gripped onto you tighter, and her muscles convulsed. Natasha's cum painted your walls, as you dropped onto her cock.

She softly fucked you through your shared orgasm, kissing your back softly. "Fuck baby, that was- holy shit." You giggled at the little ability she had to speak. Natasha helped you redress yourself, while she dressed herself too. "Are you sure you don't want me to actually pay you?" You asked. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's on me. Plus this was great payment." She winked.

Natasha guided you to your car, helping you. "Talk to you later sweetheart." She smiled and waved. You watched her walk to her truck and climb in, then drive away. "Fuck I didn't get her number!" Then you spot it, on the dash was a sticky note with her number saying "Call me".

[scoops-stevie-archive]

ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods.

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @wintaerbaer, and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself

New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler

The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again. 

His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.

Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties. 

You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.

“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”

“Want you…”

“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.

“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.

“I want you.”

Truth.

You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”

If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.

He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.

Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.

“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”

“You were drinking.”

“I’m not drunk. I promise.”

Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.

He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.

You haven’t seen him like this in so long.

Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.

He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.

Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.

Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.

“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time. 

“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.

Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.

His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”

You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”

Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.

He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins. 

“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”

You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come. 

His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily, 

Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.

This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.

No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.

Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.

“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.

He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.

The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.

He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.

Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.

But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.

“Are you clean?” you ask.

It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.

“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”

He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.

“How long has it been?”

Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes. 

“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.

For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.

Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.

He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.

His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit. 

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.

“You can move,” you say after a while.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”

He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.

You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.

No, this is something else entirely.

I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.

“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.

“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”

“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.

You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.

He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.

How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.

“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.

“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.

He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”

Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.

You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”

The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”

“Mean it.”

“I do mean it. I love you.”

Truth.

For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.

Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.

“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.

You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.

But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.

You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.

“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Jungkook groans at your answer. 

He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline. 

He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so. 

Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.

You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all. 

When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.

He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.

The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.

Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.

When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.

It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.

Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.

“Anything.”

You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”

Truth. You know it’s the truth.

Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”

The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.

But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.

He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it. 

He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.

It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.

The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.

You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.

“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.

He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.

Are you gone forever?

Come back quietly.

“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.

The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.

“What?”

“How old are you?” you repeat.

It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”

"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."

His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.

No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.

“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”

Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.

He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time. 

You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.

There’s more to it, and you need to know.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.

You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.

A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.

What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.

Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.

He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.

He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.

Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.

When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.

Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?

Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.

It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.

It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.

She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.

“If you love her, you would let her go.”

Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.

He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.

Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.

The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.

Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.

He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do? 

She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.

That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.

He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.

July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.

You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.

You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.

“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.

Again with the apologies.

Fuck this.

It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.

You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.

He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?

“Y/N, wait-”

“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”

He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”

You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.

“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“What?”

“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”

Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.

It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.

“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.” 

He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.

He might bruise in the morning.

You hope he bruises in the morning.

The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.

You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.

But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.

Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.

This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.

The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.

You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?

“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”

You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.

You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”

It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.

“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can’t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...

In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.

“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”

up next...

our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 30, 2023]

[neo-percs]

FACE SITTING:: ( day 11 )

WARNING:: face sitting, unprotected sex, best friend! Juyeon, fingering, flirting, teasing.

SUMMARY:: you've confided in your best friend about your sexcapades many times before, when you break the news that you've never had an orgasm from getting head Juyeon takes it upon himself to help you with that.

WORD COUNT:: 1.4K

"I beg you're pardon?" Juyeon asks feeling almost she'll shocked at the news "I'm being so serious, every time I get head I have to fake it because I feel bad" you whine in response. "Who are you fucking to not be able to cum from head?!" He asks as he breaks down into laughter making your face heat up in embarrassment.

"No, but in the end I get off...just not exactly when somebody's face is between my legs" you trail off quietly. "Now I want to see if I can make you cum" he mumbled not too keen on embarrassing himself if you're opposed to the idea. "Okay" you shrug. Neither of you had anything to gain out of it except an orgasm and keeping his ego in tact.

"Okay?" He asks his eyebrows scrunch together. "Okay, you can give me head" you say so nonchalantly it almost mind boggles Juyeon. "Okay. Sit on my face" he says voice barely over a whisper. Your movements are slow yet precise; standing up from the bed and ridding yourself of your panties, slipping them down your thighs before they drop to your ankle kicking them away.

Then your shirt, Juyeon's eyes attach to the way your chest looked like it could spill out of the bra any second from just one slight movement but he didn't have to think any harder about it as you unclip it and let the straps loosely fall from your shoulders. Juyeon didn't know where all of this need came from but just the sight of you naked is really fucking with his senses right.

"fuck I wanna eat you out so bad" he groans as his head falls back against the headboard your thighs practically clench together at the thought. "Come here" he says holding a hand out his eyes looking so fucked out you almost moan at the sight. The sight of his jaw clenching and adam's apple moving was enough for you grab onto his hand not even thinking as you straddle his lap he sits up, hands caressing the back of your thighs gently fingers digging into the back of your inner thigh.

Your hands meet the back of his neck gently pulling him closer until your lips met. Pulling away like the kiss had burned Juyeon laid flat on his back and guided you up the bed. Your knees dig into the mattress as you crawl over his face, your thighs trapping his head between your thighs, the smile on his lips makes your stomach flutter. You were nervous to sit down all the way, making you hover over his face cautiously. "What are you doing? Sit all the way" he spoke to him with a small laugh that made his chest bubble.

But before he could press your hips down his fingers hook at the elastic band of your panties. Tugging your panties down from the elastic waistband over your thighs and down your ankles he's met with the pretty sight of your pussy and thighs glistening in your slick arousal. Looking back up at you his gaze darkened as he gave small kisses against your thigh.

You gasp as you watch his head disappear between your legs. The heat of his mouth nearing your pussy he licks small stripes against your clit before he sensually licks from your entrance to your clit, and sucking on your clit with fervor.

You moan as your head falls back and your fingers find their way to his hair. The sounds you make are so pleasurable to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please fuck me with your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thighs, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cold metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head away he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes you look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Don't you?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were heating up, yet if it weren't for the lights casting off the billboard into his bedroom you would see his raging blush. you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words.

"Say it" he demanded, making you clench harder "yes please- please go faster Juyeon" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on his.He hums as he watches his finger get sucked inside of you. Moaning at the sight with sparkling eyes. His fingers hitting all the right places stuffing your pussy as the sloppy sounds of his fingers pounding into you as if you were his personal fuck toy.

"So good just for me right?" He asks as his tongue finds its way back to your clit, he looks up at you choking on your moans "yes" you say feeling a familiar pressure build in the pit of your stomach. "I'm so close" you whimper.

sending tingles down your body before he licked big stripes of your cunt, sucking on your clit, his tongue working wonders on you. "Cum for me" he says possessively. Your hips grind against his face as the feeling of his fingers so deep inside you curling had you gasping for air desperately.

His thumb replacing his tongue as he rubs circles on your clit, your hips shake as your mind is clouded with the sudden rush of your orgasm. You let out an almost pornographic moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you until you ride out your high.

"So good" he coos as you grip his wrist as overstimulation starts to creep in. Waiting for you to come down he slowly removes his fingers as he is eager to taste you.

Juyeon's dripping fingers make their way up to your clit as his mouth makes its descent to your puffy lips. he pushes his heavy fingers on your clit as he adorns your lips with light pecks and kitten licks before using his free hand to pull them apart and licking your entrance. his mouth sucks hard in its endeavor to taste all of you.

Your hips buck at the feeling the sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more "oh god" you say shivering at the feeling. Pulling away his eyes look up at you while his lips attach themselves to your thigh, he bites and sucks the skin on your thigh in different spots leaving red and purple spots to bloom into hickeys as the hours pass.

Pulling away he lifts his fingers still covered in your cum up to his lips sucking on them becoming addicted to the way you taste. Licking whatever remnants of cum was left on his plump lips "You taste so good" he mumbled as you pulled away from him getting a good look at his body that sat against the mattress fully clothed showing the tent in pants that seemed to grow. And once your eyes meet the bulge your eyes visibly widen.

"Your turn" you mumbled as your hands worked on his belt "my turn?" Juyeon asks with curiosity growing in his eyes. "To strip" you whisper as you succeed to pull his belt out of the loops. "Get up. Don't just leave me hanging like that" you giggle as you see his flustered gaze. You were being serious.

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss Pt.4

Pairing: Minchan x femReader (mention of Jisung/Felix)

Word Count: 5903

Summary: Chan arrives at the hospital to be there for his family in person. The news they receive about you aren't what they expected and Minho can't help but blame himself. Your husbands try to navigate their life as you recover.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, mention of blood, mention of a panic attack, coma, mention of sleeping pills, mention of throwing up (no further descriptions) min feels guilty, anxious!min, soft!chan

A/N: I sure hope you don't hate me as much as last week...🥺🖤

PART THREE | PART FIVE

Chan's heart drops to his stomach as he sees him. Tears stream down his face, and he looks terrified. Truly terrified. There's blood on his shirt, there's blood on the hand he uses to try and wipe away his tears. “Minho, fuck, where are you?”

“Hospital” is all he gets out. 

“Why, what…Minho, where's Y/N?” he asks, his stomach tightening in fear at the pained sound that leaves Minho when your name is mentioned. “Min?”

Minho's breathing picks up, and he clutches the fabric of his pants tightly, trying to steady himself. “Someone crashed into our car, I-I swear it wasn't my fault. T-The airbag didn't open a-and-,” he breaks off with a sob. “Channie, there was so much blood,” he whimpers. 

“Where's Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible, blank fear taking over him. 

“She's in surgery right now. Channie, they don't know if-” he can't say it, but meeting Chan's terrified eyes, he knows he gets it. “I'm so sorry,” he buries his face in his knees with a heavy sob. 

Tears fill his eyes and he hates himself for not being there and able to hold him tight and not let go. “Minnie, baby, I'm sure it's not your fault,” he says gently and gets up, grabbing his suitcase. “Hannah!” he shouts through the house, not caring that his parents already went to bed. He needs to get back home as soon as possible. 

Hannah is there in a few seconds, a little shocked by her brother's distraught look. “What's wrong?” she asks worriedly. 

“I need to get home right now,” he tells her, and she nods gently. “Min, I'll figure this out, I promise. I'll be there as quickly as I can, okay?” Hannah's worries deepen at the timid answer Minho gives. “I know you have other things to worry about, but please let them check up on you, okay? I wouldn't want you to be hurt and notice too late.”

“Okay, Channie,” he sniffles. “What if she…?”

“Don't think that way,” Chan tells him softly. “Y/nnie’s a fighter, she'll push through. I'll let you know when I'm at the airport.”

Hannah already started packing her brother's suitcase, glancing at him worriedly as he exchanged goodbyes. “You look like shit, what happened?”

“They got into an accident,” he says and already dials another number. “They don't know if Y/N..,” he breaks off, and Hannah pulls him into a tight hug. 

“She'll be okay; she always is,” she promises. “Now go call your fancy staff and get your VIP privileges; I'll pack.”

“Thank you,” he nods. 

-

Minho looks up from his chair as the door to the room opens, and Felix slips inside. “What are you -?”

“Chan called and told me you could use someone,” Felix explains. He takes off his jacket and sits down next to him. He offers his hand, and Minho takes it, squeezing it gently. “Any news?”

“No,” he whispers timidly. “Still nothing,” he says. It's an hour ago that he called Chan. Someone checked up on him after cleaning the blood from his face and hands. “I didn't get hurt,” he says, and his face grows pale. “She was unconscious before I could do a thing, hit her head pretty hard. Felix there was so much blood,” he says mindlessly, as if he's giving him the facts on a new comeback. 

Felix hums gently and rubs his shoulder. “I stopped by your place and got you some clothes. Maybe go and change, hm?” he suggests, spotting the blood on his shirt. 

Minho stands up in a routine move, grabs his clothes, and locks himself in the bathroom. He meets his reflection in the mirror and closes his eyes, shivering softly. Fuck.

Felix glances up as he comes back and nods towards the small sofa in the corner of the room. He sits down there and pulls Minho into a hug. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

“It's not your fault,” Minho says tiredly and relaxes a little in his warm embrace. It's the first time something as shocking as this has happened, and none of his partners are there to hold his hand. 

“I know,” Felix nods gently. “But still. You've already had a rough few months with Chan feeling like shit and then leaving.”

“Life is shit sometimes,” Minho shrugs, and his eyes flutter close when Felix starts running his hand through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

-

The flight back home has never felt as long as today. Never. About two hours ago he had gotten a message from Minho, short and simple, but it was enough. 

Kitten🖤: She'll make it. 

Chan quickly makes his way out of the airport and stops at home for ten minutes. Felix had told him to get home first, take a quick shower, and change clothes. None of them knew how long they'd be stuck at the hospital. Chan got into his car after and drove to the hospital, rushing up to your floor as soon as he knew where. Opening the door, he sees Felix sitting on the sofa in the back and gives him a quick wave. 

Minho is by your bed, head resting on his arm on the mattress and seems asleep. Dried tear streaks cover his face and Chan's throat tightens at how exhausted he looks even in his sleep. And then there's you, looking as pale as the sheets, your head wrapped up safely. Your hand lies in Minho's, and only your chest moving tells him you're alive. Chan finds himself in Felix's arms before he fully registers the scene and hugs back tightly. 

“Hey, mate,” Felix whispers, not wanting to wake Minho up. “I'll leave you to it, yeah? So that you know Minho does blame himself for what happened. We don't know when she'll wake up, but the doctor said she will.” 

Chan nods gently before flashing him a tired smile. “Thank you for being here.”

“Obviously,” Felix snorts and gently pats his chest. “Welcome home, I guess.”

A little later, they're alone, and Chan timidly steps closer to Minho, sitting down on the chair next to him. His hand finds his lower back almost naturally and he very gently picks him up into his lap. A soft protesting sound leaves Minho's lips but he's too tired actually to question the action. Minho curls up in his arms, the way he always does, as if deep down he knows it's Chan. Chan makes sure he's comfortable and plants a tiny kiss on his hair, soothingly fondling his head. Only then did it hit him how much he had missed you two. 

Minho wakes up later, feeling warm and comfortable. He subconsciously cuddles close before his brain slowly picks up on Chan's so familiar scent and the way his body feels against him, and he sits up straight rapidly. “Channie,” he breathes out, his eyes getting teary. 

“Hi, kitten,” he says softly and presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he confesses quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asks gently. “Lee Minho, if you blame yourself for what happened now, I will smack your ass. Not in a good way.”

A weak laugh escapes him, and he gently shoves his chest. “Of course I do. I'd rather get hurt than her.”

“She'd say the same if it were you,” he says and gently rubs his shoulder. “Nevertheless, it's not your fault.”

“Channie?” he whispers timidly. “I really don't believe that and…,” he trails off with a sniffle.

“I'm here now, let it out,” he says softly, and Minho's head drops down in his chest with a broken sound. Chan holds him tight, trying to make him feel as safe and comforted as possible. Minho shuffles into his lap, straddling him and pulling him into a tight hug. They hold onto each other firmly and find comfort in their shared pain for a bit. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there.”

“Don't,” Minho stops him, burying his hand in his hair. “You're here now.”

“I didn't mean what I said in that call,” Chan tells him nevertheless. “I was planning to surprise you for your birthday in two weeks after.”

Minho sniffles softly and squeezes him. “Yeah? So you've been getting better?”

“I have,” Chan nods and kisses his cheek. “It's still not completely, but it's so much better.”

“That's good,” he tells him. “I'm proud of you, Channie.”

“I love you,” Chan says gently. “So so much.”

Minho smiles a little at that and takes a deep breath. He is better. “I love you too, Channie.”

-

Minho firmly holds Chan's hand as they lean against the wall opposite your room. About twenty minutes ago, the doctor sent them away as you started to tremble. Since then, no one has talked to them. Another doctor shuffled into the room, and Minho could tell Chan was getting anxious from there on. 

Chan grows awfully quiet next to him, staring at the floor and seeming like he's far away. Minho is shaking a little, tapping his fingers against his thigh anxiously. Chan soothingly rubs his knuckles and squeezes his hand for the tenth time. “They said she'd be okay, right?” he asks. 

Minho glances at him awkwardly. “They said she'd make it…whatever that means for the rest.”

Chan huffs softly and nods, Minho is right. “Am I the only one feeling like throwing up?”

“God no,” Minho laughs weakly. “Have been since the accident.”

Chan glances at him worriedly. “You should've told me.”

He shrugs tiredly and cracks his neck with a soft moan. “I always am when I'm worried. There's nothing you could've done.”

Chan nods and traces his eyes up and down his body. “But you're not dizzy? Are you having a headache? Or anything?”

Minho steps in front of him and takes both of his hands. “I'm okay, physically. They checked everything, I promise,” he tells him softly and Chan pulls him into a hug. He lets him, only then noticing that Chan is shaking himself by now. “Deep breaths, we'll be alright.”

“Okay,” Chan whispers. 

“We'll be okay,” Minho repeats himself as if to convince them both. 

“Okay,” Chan nods, and Minho pulls back from him as the door opens. Their hands don't part as the doctor leads them to an office nearby and asks them to sit down. Chan looks like he's about to throw up now and Minho is dancing at the edge of a lingering panic attack. 

“Mr. Lee, you've asked me to wait for a proper update on your wife's state until your husband arrives,” she starts out, and Chan gently grabs Minho's hand, squeezing it. “I have an update on the condition of your wife and I'm afraid it isn't what you'd like to hear. The impact injured her frontal bone, which punctured her brain. We could fix this with the surgery,” the doctor tells them. 

Both of them are smart enough not to be too relieved already. “And besides that?” Minho asks timidly, not having missed that warning before. 

She gives him a compassionate smile. “Well, for one there'll probably be the usual aftermaths like nightmares or even fear of sitting in a car again. That isn't everything, though.”

“Stop sweet talking and tell us what we're dealing with, please,” Chan says kindly, heart thumping in his throat. 

“Your wife seems to have suffered more trauma than we thought, especially after the surgery. She's in a coma, and we don't know when or if she'll wake-.”

“If?” Minho asks, barely audible, his hand slipping from Chan’s. “But…you said she’d make it.”

She flashes him a compassionate smile. “That’s before her body shut down, she seemed stable before. I’m really sorry.”

“For fucks sake,” he breathes out and slowly pushes himself up from his chair. “You’re saying there’s a chance she’ll never wake up again? What then? You expect me to tell you when to turn it all off?”

“Minho,” Chan speaks up gently and turns in his chair to face him. There’s nothing but blank fear in his eyes, and he looks at the doctor in front of them so desperately it breaks his heart. “It’s not her fault.”

“No shit, Chan!” Minho snaps at him, and Chan’s gaze grows firm.

“Don’t do this. Not here,” he says calmly, and Minho scoffs at him. 

“My image as an idol is the last thing I care about right now, Mr. Golden Boy,” he presses out and shakes his head, leaving the room without another word.

Chan sighs heavily and turns back at the doctor, smiling apologetically. “I apologize, he didn’t mean it.”

“I'll be quick,” she assures him kindly. We don't know how soon she'll wake up again. In case she does, someone has to take care of her. I know you're both very busy. Is there anyone else, just in case?”

“Besides a friend of hers not really, no,” Chan says worriedly. “Her family doesn't live exactly close.”

“If she can go back home soon…Mr. Bahng, there's a high chance this will take months, maybe a year, until she fully regains her abilities. We don't know how bad it'll affect her yet, there's a potential for memory loss. I will inform you about eventual treatments and everything when it's time. I'm really sorry and I wish you and your husband the best of luck and strength with this new situation.”

Chan exchanges another few words before quickly rushing outside and trying the closest bathroom as the hallway is empty. Luckily, Minho seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Minho's on his knees, retching even though there's nothing left. Chan crouches down behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. “Hey, baby, deep breaths.”

Minho whimpers and falls back against him, sobbing. “Please, please tell me this isn't true. Not our sweet Y/nnie.”

Chan swallows down tears, trying to stay strong for both of them. Minho has been carrying everyone's shit on his shoulders for too long now. It's time he steps up again. “It'll be okay, we'll be okay,” he promises and rocks him gently as Minho allows himself to break down in his arms. “Shh, it's okay, Minnie baby, it's okay, I got you.”

-

Chan stares at you, deep in thoughts, trying to make sense of the past few hours. The thought of you possibly never waking up again is killing him. He feels guilty for not being there those past months. What if he missed all this time with you? Just because he hadn't been feeling so well? His chest tightens, and he sucks in a sharp breath, subconsciously reaching for Minho next to him. Every word dies in his throat, seeing his husband. Minho stares at the floor, hot tears running down his cheeks and pressing his lips together tightly in an attempt to hold back his sobs. His hair falls into his face, stomach twisting with guilt the longer he thinks about what happened. Chan swallows hard at the sight of his husband, trying not to break down. His shoulders tremble with the impact of his suppressed sobs, and he sniffles softly. Chan gently rubs his back and watches him worriedly as he pushes himself up. He quickly reaches out for him and stares up at him with wide eyes. “Please don't leave,” he whispers, swallowing down his own fear but not fully succeeding. “Please,” he adds, tears brimming his eyes. 

Minho looks at him and shakes his head. “I can't breathe in here,” he confesses through tears and shakily holds Chan's hand. “I just wanna go home, please, I’ve been here for hours,” he whimpers. 

Chan looks at him quietly before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. They're both exhausted and need some sleep. You wouldn't wake up that soon, and they both could use a break. “Okay, I'll drive us home; my car’s outside.”

“For telling you to get yourself together…more or less,” he says and stops at a redlight. “That wasn’t very supportive of me.”

Minho exhales, relieved, and shakily holds onto his hand as Chan gently says his goodbye to you. They leave the hospital in silence, and Chan drives them back home, soothingly rubbing Minho's knee. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Minho asks tiredly, staring at the many buildings passing by. 

Minho laughs weakly and rolls his eyes at himself. “It’s okay, you were right. There’s nothing she can do about it right now…Also, I’m sorry for calling you a golden boy.”

“Please, as if I’d take that to heart after those past few months,” he snorts, and Minho smiles at him tiredly. 

“I missed you,” he admits and grabs his hand, squeezing it. “It’s good to have you back.”

Chan smiles softly and brings their hands up to his mouth, planting a kiss on his knuckles. “I’m here now, yeah?”

Minho hums quietly in response, and Chan starts driving again.

Back home, Minho stands still for a moment, and Chan watches him worriedly as he starts shaking. Minho sucks in a sharp breath and clutches his chest, bending over with a whimper. “Hey, hey, babe,” he panics a little as Minho sinks to his knees with a groan, curling up and sobbing loudly. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried that Minho got hurt and just didn’t tell him.

“I'm so sorry,” he whimpers as Chan gets down on the floor next to him. “It's all my fault.”

Chan shakes his head and holds onto him tightly, leaning down. “No, don't say that,” he tells him and helplessly rubs his back. “It's not your fault, baby.” His heart races with how intensely Minho sobs beneath him, and his stomach turns painfully. He has never seen him break down like this in all those many years he has known and then loved him. “Come here, please,” he whispers, tears making their way down his face. Now that they're back home, he can let them flow freely and allow himself to let it out. He heaves him into his lap, and Minho clings onto him firmly, allowing himself a little comfort in his husband's arms. Chan rocks him in his arms, trying to calm his own troubled mind. 

“I’m sorry, Channie,” he whimpers and Chan hugs him even tighter in response.

One week later

“Min, baby?” Chan asks, coming back upstairs. “You're ready yet, we gotta-Minho?” he asks worriedly as he spots his husband lying in bed fully dressed. He bites back a sigh and sits down at the edge of the bed. “Min? What's wrong?”

“I don't want to,” he says quietly, seemingly staring right through him. 

“What do you mean? We made a promise to stop by every day,” he tries gently. 

“I can't go there, okay? Not today,” he shakes his head and subconsciously curls up a little. “I hate hospitals, I hate that she's there, I hate that she's hurt, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

“We should try to be there for her as much as we can, baby,” Chan argues carefully and brushes his hair from his face. 

“It’s not like she notices if I’m not there or not,” Minho says.

“The doctor said there’s a chance she can hear us, kitten, remember?” he asks patiently. 

“I don’t talk anyway,” he argues weakly.

“Min,” he sighs softly.

“I can't go there, Channie. Please don't make me go there,” he shivers, his eyes brimming with tears. “Please,” he whispers shakily. 

Chan crawls into bed and pulls him in close, soothingly running his hand through his hair. “Shh, baby, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry, Channie,” Minho hiccups and buries himself deep into his chest. “I fucked it all up, I'm so sorry.”

“No, Minho, none of that,” he says firmly and shakes his head. “This isn't your fault, none of it.” 

“You weren't even there, you don't know that,” he whimpers. 

Chan pulls back and cups his face, making him look at him. “I might haven't been there, but I'm here now. I know my husband would do anything to keep that girl of ours safe. I know you would've swapped places in an instant, and I know you'd never put her at risk like that.” His thumbs rub along his cheeks soothingly, and he searches his eyes desperately. “Minho, this isn't your fault, and I’m sure she knows that. She loves you so much, and so do I. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

“Please don't make me go there again,” he sniffles timidly, eyes wide and filled with guilt. 

“I'll go on my own, it's okay, Min,” he assures him and kisses his forehead. “Try and get some rest okay?” 

“I keep dreaming about it,” he shakes his head and rubs his face tiredly. “I keep hearing her scream, and then her head hits…Channie, I'm fucked.”

Chan hums gently and rubs soothing circles on his lower back. “If it doesn't get better, we'll get you some help, yeah?” he suggests, and Minho nods tiredly. “For now, I'll give you one of my pills, and you'll be sleeping like a baby.”

“Okay,” he nods gently. Minho gets into some more comfortable clothes again and takes the pill, curling up in his arms. Chan plays with his hair and hums softly, lulling him in with every passing minute. “Love you, Channie hyung.”

“Love you too, Minho baby,” he says softly and kisses his head. Once Minho's actually asleep, he tucks him in and makes sure he's comfortable before he leaves to go and see you. Chan stays with you for a while, talking to himself, telling you about whatever comes to his mind. If he could, he’d stay here all day, but there’s still loads of work to catch up with, and he doesn’t dare leave Minho on his own for too long. 

At the company, Chan slowly strolls down the hallway to their practice room and hears the music blasting. He opens the door and finds Felix and Jisung practicing their newest dance. He gives them a tired wave, and Jisung quickly turns off the music.

“Didn’t we agree on you staying home for a few days?” Felix asks him and raises his eyebrows at him.

“It’s suffocating,” he shakes his head, and Jisung glances at him worriedly.

“He’s not getting better, huh?” he asks, and Chan shakes his head.

“I can’t blame him. He was the one driving; I’d blame myself, too. It’s just…today, he simply couldn’t get himself to go to the hospital with me,” Chan tells them quietly and stares at the floor. “I can’t fix this, and it’s driving me insane.”

“Hey,” Jisung says gently. “When you were feeling like shit, neither of them tried to fix you. They held your hand when you needed it and let you go as you needed some space. You can’t fix any of this, just be there for him.”

“I’m trying, Ji, I swear,” Chan huffs, frustrated, tears burning in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“And what would have that changed?” Felix asks gently. “The only difference that could’ve been would be you driving. You think Minho would stand here any differently now then?”

“I hurt him,” Chan says and they frown at him softly. “We got into a fight, and Y/nnie took him out for dinner to cheer him up because I’ve been a complete asshole. She texted me, saying how hurt he was and…maybe he would’ve reacted more quickly and-.”

“Chan,” Felix says firmly. “We’ve seen the footage, there was no chance. The other driver was drunk and racing down that street. There’s nothing he could’ve done. If you truly don’t blame him, you can’t blame yourself either. If you’re saying you made him too caught up in his thoughts to prevent the accident, you’re not only blaming yourself here.”

Chan tiredly rubs his face before nodding. “Yeah, okay, sorry.”

“You should get back home and get some rest,” Jisung says softly and pulls him into a tight hug. “There’s no use in staying here and beating yourself up, worrying about Min when you could be with him right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods and squeezes them both tightly. “I’ll just sort a few things out, then I’ll be gone, promise.”

“Alright,” they nod and wave goodbye.

-

So three hours in total later, Chan gets back home and quietly glances into their bedroom. Minho's still deep asleep, and Chan decides to join him while he works. He sits down on the bed next to him and gently runs his hand through his hair, turning on his laptop. He sighs softly, spotting the fading bruises on his arm and the healing cut right below his hairline. Of course, Minho had been hurt by the impact as well, but the shock and gravity of your situation made him downplay his own injuries. Chan only found out accidentally when they took a bath two days ago to relax a little. “Oh, kitten,” he whispers to himself and shakes his head at him. 

Minho wakes up another three hours later, rolling away from him drowsily. His brain feels fuzzy, his vision is foggy, and he needs a moment to comprehend he's awake. He rubs his face with a groan and blinks heavily, trying to stay awake. Turning onto his back, he spots Chan next to him and squints at him. “Why the fuck are they so strong?” he rasps, voice laced heavily with sleep.

“Well, because I need them to sleep,” he chuckles and gently fondles his hair. “You slept alright?”

“Mhm,” he hums sleepily and stretches his body with a low groan. “How's Y/nnie?” he asks timidly. 

“No changes yet,” Chan tells him and thoughtfully stares out of the window. “Min?”

“Hm?” 

“I think you should take a break,” Chan says, not looking at him. 

Minho shoots up and stares at him. “Why?” he asks dangerously low, suddenly fully awake. 

“You're exhausted, baby. You deserve a break,” Chan says, glancing at him. 

“And it's just that?” Minho asks sharply, and Chan frowns at him. “Not because you think I'm losing it?”

“What? No,” he quickly shakes his head. “I swear it's because you're exhausted, you worked double with me gone.”

“More like triple because you do way too much, but yeah,” he snickers before huffing softly. “Yeah, okay, you're probably right. Can you sort that shit out?”

Chan smiles knowingly. “I already did. You're on break for a month besides group interviews that get recorded or those two live performances we have coming up.” 

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing. “That won't stop me from dragging you home from the studio if you stay too long.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promises and squeezes his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I know,” he giggles softly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“You’re a menace, Chan,” he shakes his head. “If you don’t cut back a little, you’ll end up overwhelmed and overworked again in a month.”

Minho’s eyes flicker away from his, and he nods firmly. “Of course I am.”

“Kitten?” he asks softly. “Can you promise me something?”

“Depends,” he squints at him suspiciously. 

“I need you to be honest with me. If you’re struggling, feeling lost, or overwhelmed, let me know. No matter where I am, no matter how late it is,” Chan says, and Minho stares at him quietly for a minute. “Minho?”

“I can try,” he whispers and searches his eyes. “No, I will try. I promise. Just…don’t expect too much, you know how I am.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chan nods worriedly, and Minho gently kisses his cheek. 

“I’ll be fine, I always am,” he says.

One and a half months later

After skipping that one time, it took him a week to go back to the hospital. After that, he didn’t miss a day, sometimes coming here with Chan and sometimes, when Chan’s schedule didn’t fit, coming on his own. He couldn’t deal with not seeing you and talking to you, even though you never answered. 

Minho greets the nurse with a kind smile and nervously clutches the flowers in his hand. “Any news?”

“Not yet, Mr. Lee,” she says gently. “She’s stable, that’s what counts. It isn’t getting any worse. Don’t give up hope.”

Minho nods gently. “I won’t,” he says before excusing himself and stepping into your room. He closes the door quietly behind himself and sighs softly, seeing you. “Hey, Y/nnie,” he says gently and makes his way around the bed, replacing the old flowers with the ones he brought. “Got you some flowers…you would like those,” he says and sits down on the chair next to your bed. For a while he simply watches you, watches your chest rising and falling, your lashes resting against your cheeks. The bandages around your head are gone by now, and he hesitantly reaches out, caressing your cheek. “God, I miss you,” he sighs softly and braces himself on the mattress, taking your hand between his. “It’s so quiet at the house now when Channie’s working. Sometimes, I’m stupid enough to believe you’ll come around the corner every second and ask for cuddles. Or ask if I can make you dinner, I miss cooking with you so much,” he rambles on mindlessly. “You’d be surprised how much has changed since you’re not home. Chan is home before twelve every night, can you believe that? He’s really taking care of himself now, you’d be so proud. Also, he asked me to teach him some things around the kitchen, I think he did it so I wouldn’t get bored. I’m seeing a therapist now…never thought I’d ever need that. Apparently, there’s more stuff in my life I need to work through besides that stupid accident. She’s nice, you’d like her,” he says and trails off for a while. Your face before his eyes gets blurry as his eyes brim with tears and his throat tightens up. 

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel like shit about what happened. It’s okay to feel guilty. As long as it doesn’t stop you from moving on with your life and eventually smiling again. He doesn’t know how often he heard those first three sentences in the past few weeks.

Minho inhales shakily and squeezes your hand in his. “I miss you so much, honey. I miss your laugh, I miss acting stupid with you, I miss holding your hand or pulling you close and swaying you through the kitchen. I miss holding you when you’re asleep, and I never thought I’d miss carrying the grocery bags for you this badly. Fuck, I miss your voice and those beautiful eyes looking at me like I deserve all the love you have for me,” he sniffles softly and presses his trembling lips together for a second. “Can you try and wake up soon, Y/nnie honey? I can’t stay strong forever,” he presses out, and his shoulders shake with a suppressed sob. He doesn’t notice the door opening and flinches a little as someone wraps his arms around his waist. Chan’s familiar scent surrounds him, and Minho instinctively leans into his touch. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

“I know,” Chan answers quietly and kisses his cheek. “Some days are just harder than others.”

“Yeah,” Minho sniffles softly and stays in his arms, your hand in his pressed against his face. “You’re early,” he speaks up after a while.

“We finished early,” he nods and mindlessly rubs his side. “Thought I’d stop by and pick you up.”

“Thanks, love,” he says gently. He doesn’t feel safe driving yet, and Chan made sure to pick him up personally whenever he could. Minho pulls back from you with a sniffle, gently resting your hand on the mattress. “No update yet, but they told me it’s a good sign that her state isn’t getting worse.”

“Okay, that’s something,” Chan nods, agreeing, and gets himself a chair, lifting Minho in his lap. “You wanna talk about today?” he asks, gently rubbing his thighs.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asks, turning in his hold. Chan nods understandingly and squeezes his hand. 

“That’s fine,” he says, resting his head on his shoulder. “You know you don’t have to tell me about therapy, but I’m there if you want to.”

“I know,” Minho smiles thankfully and watches you thoughtfully. “I see her every day, and still, I miss her like crazy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Chan nods. “I’m so glad to have you still…I’d go insane on my own.”

“Oh, me too,” he chuckles softly. “You wanna leave? Or can we stay for another bit?”

“We can stay as long as you want to, kitten,” he promises.

One week later

Minho unlocks the front door to your house and drags himself inside. After a quick visit this morning he had been at the company, practicing for an upcoming performance. It’s been two months since you fell into a coma, and according to the doctor, you’re slowly starting to make progress. She told them there was a high chance it wouldn’t take all too long anymore for you to wake up. Minho didn’t care one bit how long it would still take. The fact that you’d wake up again had been everything he needed.

He frowns softly at how quiet the house is. Shouldn’t Chan already be home? Minho slips out of his shoes and calls out for him, getting no answer. “Channie, love?” he asks again, strolling into the living room area. His eyes widen at the sight in front of him, and he covers his mouth in shock. “What the fuck?”

The living room is dark but illuminated by the many strings of light adorning the walls. A huge bouquet of red roses rests beautifully in a vase on top of the sofa table, and the sweet scent of fresh brownies lingers in the air. Minho turns at the sound of the door opening and sees his husband stepping inside with a bottle of wine. “Channie?” he asks softly.

Chan’s eyes widen, spotting him, and his face falls checking his watch. “Hey! You’re home early,” he protests.

“Obviously,” Minho giggles and frowns at him. “What’s all that about? Did I miss something? It’s not our anniversary, right?” he asks worriedly. 

Chan puts down the bottle of wine and shakes his head. “I just realized it’s been six long months since I did something nice for you with everything going on. I wanted to surprise you and - no, why are you crying?” he asks softly.

“Sorry,” he giggles through tears. “Happy tears, I swear,” he promises and messily wipes his cheeks. 

“Fucker,” he breathes out as his own eyes fill with tears seeing him beaming with joy after all this time.

Minho giggles wetly and closes the distance between them, hugging him so forcefully it makes Chan stumble for a moment. “You’re so sweet.”

Chan smiles brightly and buries his face in his shoulder. “I love you so much, kitten.”

“I love you too,” he whispers and pulls back, beaming at him. They sink into each other’s eyes and Minho can’t help giving in to the invisible string pulling them closer. Their lips meet in a slow, sweet kiss and Minho melts into him, hand buried in his curls. 

“I worried this would be too cheesy,” Chan giggles breathlessly as he pulls back for a moment. 

“Don’t you ever dare stop being cheesy, yeah?” he whispers.

“Never,” he promises, giggling, and seals the deal with another soft kiss.

PART THREE | PART FIVE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @kailee08 @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @harshaaaaa @lost-in-avoidance

[asilentfrenzy]

remember when

"Rhys bared his teeth. My limbs turned light, trembling at the dark power curling in the corners of the room. Not fear - never fear of him. But at the shattered control as Rhys snarled at Lucien, 'My mate may one day find it in her to forgive him. Forgive you. But I will never forget how it felt to sense her terror in those moments.' My cheeks heated, especially as Cassian and Azriel stalked closer, those hazel eyes now filled with a mix of sympathy and wrath. 

Lucien, to his credit, didn't back away a step. From Rhys, from me, or the Illyrians. 

The Clever Fox Stares Down Winged Death. The painting flashed into my mind."

(it's the "forgive you" for me lmfao like shut the actual fuck up)

he has the audacity to say this shit to lucien when two books prior -

"'You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.'

'Oh? Here I was, thinking you still mourned your commoner lover after all these centuries,' Rhysand said, stalking toward me."

"'I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” My face burned. Lucien was trembling—with rage or fear or sorrow, I couldn’t tell. 'The Lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet well away from your father.'"

"'Amarantha will enjoy breaking her,' Rhysand observed to Tamlin. 'Almost as much as she'll enjoy watching you as she shatters her bit by bit.'" 

Those invisible claws lazily caressed my mind again - then vanished. I sank to the floor, curling over my knees as I reeled in everything that I was, as I tried to keep from sobbing, from screaming, from emptying my stomach onto the floor. "

(damn. i wonder how it felt to feel her terror in those moments 🤔)

anyway, friendly reminder that rhysand is the biggest fucking hypocrite in the series and feyre & co's self-righteous attitudes are absolutely insufferable 🤗

[be-missed]

Find You Again (Drabble)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Four months post-breakup, Y/N "swiftly" moved on, entangled with a rising singer. Jenna, still raw from their shattered romance, covertly attended Y/N's performance at Coachella Valley Music. The echo of Y/N's new song sliced through her soul like a knife, reigniting her heartbreak with an unbearable intensity.

Warnings: curse words, notify me if there are any

A/N: This is a backstory. A new song released by Wendy, so listen to it if you can!

Song: His Car Isn't Yours // WENDY

Masterlist

_____________________________________________________________

"Do you wanna go around to get some food?" Mia asked Jenna, obviously trying to get her away from the stage where Y/N will perform in a few. The both of you planned this; You will perform your first ever stage in Coachella while she watch you. But it turns out that the world has other plans for the both of you.

You broke up with each other four months ago, but you are now dating a rising singer for two months. It fucking hurt, really. It hurt Jenna so deep. She never heard from you after you dropped off her things in her house and she went away to do filming.

"No, uhm, you go ahead, I'm not really hungry" Jenna smiled timidly to her sister. Mia nodded and leaves Jenna alone at their spot, near enough to watch you clearly, but far enough to not be seen.

Five minutes later, the crowd are cheering for your opening song. Jenna was watching you sing, reminiscing those days where the both of you were in a studio and she was the only person that gets to hear your masterpiece. She wants to gatekeep you actually, she doesn't want anyone thinking that they wanted to be yours. Because you are only hers and she's only for you.

She remembers how she drives to your house, picking you up, driving fast in the highway and driving slow through the suburbs. She remembers how you were always waiting up in your driveway waiting for her car to park in front so that you can greet her. Jenna sometimes parks her car on the other side of the street just to surprise you, but hell she wonders how you still noticed where she is parked.

A tear fell from her eyes, she wiped it up fast, not wanting to be seen. She hates herself right now, she hates how she is so hung up on you while you were out there dating some dude. Jenna thought to herself, "Did some force take you because I didn't pray?" because if it did, right here, right now, she'll be on her knees begging that things aren't real and she's just dreaming.

Your voice break her thoughts when you said "So this song is for someone... that has been a part of my life. A big part actually." You bitterly smiled, Jenna saw the camera focused on you, it didn't go unnoticed that you were actually finding someone in the crowd. You continue to speak "So uhm, if you are ever here, this is for you."

Jenna is nervous, because it's either you sing a song about that dude or your gonna sing about her. But she doesn't want to get her hopes high, so she did some breathing exercises to ground herself when the intro of the song started.

You start singing the song, it was... a sad one. A song that is actually about you and her. The moon is taking over the sun making the venue a tad bit darker, making the fans lit up the flashlights on their phone.

You moved to the center of the stage, closer to the people that are watching you. Scanning every possible face that your low resolution eyes can see. Trying so hard to find Jenna, because she promised. She promised she'll watch your first performance in Coachella.

Am I supposed to find someone

Makes me feel how I felt?

I'm trying think it's time that

I try again with someone new

The stream of tears on Jenna's face is now continuous, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she just couldn't. No one knew the relationship that you two had, no one knew that the two of you are connected. The both of you are rising stars in each track that you take, but the both of you are still not famous enough to break the internet with some dating rumors.

Now it's eight o'clock and I'm waiting on

This good guy to come pick me up

I just wanna have a good night

He's pulling up, oh my God, I see the headlights

And he opens my door but his car isn't yours

It's not you anymore in my driveway

It isn't you drivers seat on the highway

It isn't you on your way every Friday

And I hate that it hurts that his car isn't yours, yeah

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours

Yeah

The bridge hit every part of Jenna's heart that screams your name, which absolutely every part of her entire being. After your break up, she just drive past your house just to see if you are awake, to see if your dining room light is on, or just to see you in your driveway waiting for her.

Now it's 2 AM, he just dropped me off

Asked if he could come in, I told him maybe not

Then he asked what he did, I said that nothing's wrong

It wasn't your car

The song ended in a sad beat with you thanking everybody on your team, the festival, and the audience that watched you. Sad to say, you ended your set with a broken heart. You were happy, of course, being able to perform on a big music festival with a lot of people that can support you and listen to your music. But Jenna wasn't there, you didn't see Jenna standing on her spot, rooted there like she was planted.

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours, mmm-mmm

Eh-yeah, mmm, yeah

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Chapter 3 is not still finished but here is a drabble for Find You Again. If you have any drabble ideas for Find You Again, just send it! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

[sinsmockingbird]

*taps on mic* Hello ☺️ I leave a gift! 🏃‍♂️💨

Rahu growls in your ear, and her fingers harshly dig into your ass. If she holds onto you harder, you may bleed. She has you lifted enough so that her throbbing cock glides in and out of your weeping pussy with ease. All you could do was mewl and moan as you fist the bedsheets below you.

“That's it, baby. Take my cock like the whore you are.” Rahu's sudden braveness took you both by surprise. She's lost control of herself. The only thought she has is how to claim you and make you forever hers. Each look someone gives you makes her jealous, her need to make you forget every look that comes your way is heightened.

“I'll make you only desire me, no one else!” Rahu would growl in your ear, pushing you down against the bed with her body. She pumps so much cum into you it's unbelievable. She won't let a single ounce go to waste, scooping it up and shoving it deep inside of you. She even bought a special plug for the occasion, making sure none of it leaves you

HOLY SHIT CLAIRE- I was writing pt 2 for the PTN Women As Parents when you sent this in!! Your definitely helping my craving for her but I also think you made it unintentionally worse?! This was so beautiful and now I can't stop thinking things. You better know I'll be sending something in to you now to make you go crazy.

CW: Smut under the cut!

Rahu will have on your hands and knees, one hand pressing your head into the pillow under you while the other is digging into your plush ass. She's pressing herself flush against your back, her mouth right by your ear, letting you hear every growl, grunt, and dirty word she lets out.

It's not often that Rahu gets brave enough to treat you this roughly and suddenly. She's hesitant to ever initiate something sexual, but when she remembers how those girls were looking at you.... fuck she's gritting her teeth in anger and giving you a very harsh thrust.

"Mine," Rahu breathes against your ear, growling in anger as she sees their looks, her nails digging crescents into her skin, almost breaking the skin. "No one elses... no one's whore but mine!"

"R-Rahu-!" The pathetic whine you let out with her name leaving your lips has her groaning.

Her hips will stutter against you, cock sloppily slamming into your aching cock for only a few seconds before she's back to her ruthless, almost painful, pace. She'll move her other hand to your ass, giving it a sudden smack that has you crying more tears, before she's digging her nails into your other cheek.

You can feel Rahu's cum moving inside you, the load she's already released into you. You can feel a bit of it slipping out, and whenever this happens, she's letting out a frustrated groan and swiping it into her fingers before shoving it back into you, letting her fingers stuff inside you alongside her dick for only a brief moment.

"Can't. Let. Any. Go. To. Waste." Rahu grunts each word with a harsh and deep thrust, before letting out a high pitched groan as she buries herself inside you, pressing her body flush against you and pushing your upper body further into the bed.

You black out for a moment as she begins to cum inside you again, filling you up. She's shaking against your quivering body, whining as her cock throbs inside you. With shaky hanes she's gathering every bit of her cum that leaks out of your overfilled hole as she continues cumming.

Once Rahu finishes, she'll slowly slip out of you, a hand quickly cupping your sex as she tries to stop any of her cum from leaking out. She's leaning over to grab something from her night stand, pulling out a pretty little plug before moving to push it into you. The way your body jolts as soon as the plug pushes in, has her cock twitching.

Once she's done, Rahu is clutching your exhausted body against her's, her lips pressing against every bite mark littering your shoulders, while one hand caresses your stomach that's full of her cum.

"Mine... Mm sorry I just- just wanted to show you your mine." Rahu apologizes quietly, cradling your fucked out body gently against her, her sincerity of losing control apparent.

You whisper that it's okay before slipping into sleep, exhaustion from Rahu's fucking finally getting to you. While you sleep, she's holding you gently, getting up at one point to grab a warm washcloth to clean you up. The sight of the plug stuffed in your cunt making her chest well up with possessiveness.

[goth-mami-writer]

POV: You're the quiet intern just trying to make it down these steps⬇️

@short-honey-badger who helped me cough this up a few months ago, and we had a lotttt of fun.

⚠️(absolutely not my art. The artist is @yunonoai on TWT. Thx!)⚠️

《 Your director told you to use the back stairwell after the day was finished with final takes in filming. You were the new intern on set and still learning everyone's roles and names, but you knew the cast well. After grabbing your coffee and bag, then being told by the director to use the back stairwell due to some work being done on the front entrance, your stomach churned.

That's where the cast took their smoke breaks between sets and most of them....didn't know you. You were the newbie, and you saw how some of them looked at you in-between filming takes. All of them towered above even the director sometimes, and intimidating just wasn't the word. Some were very cordial. Or at least friendly. But for others... that just wasn't the case. They were almost entirely like their fictional character. Smug and coarse in interaction.

You took a deep breath and opened the door to the back stairwell. The first thing to hit you was the smell of deep, musky cigarette. It almost gagged you because half of them were avid smokers, often being late to set times from hurrying back from their smoke breaks. The heat from the outside lot met you then, and you squinted your eyes from the bright light that illuminated your descent. But you realized now that it wasn't just a few of them here.

It was all of them.

The villains, the noble protagonists. The anti heroes.

Oh, God. Everyone was here.

"Heyy.." The half of them called out in unison while the others only gave a you side glance from their unenthused expressions.

All of their legs were folded across the concrete steps, making it difficult for you to navigate your way down safely. You swallowed hard and decided to speak up for those who might have not realized you were needing through.

"Uhm, excuse me. Sorry." You said with your hands clutched on the strap of your bag.

Nanami, the upstanding gentleman of the group, was the first to stand. He was sitting right at the front, that being your only sigh of relief. He was one of the oldest, and his presence on set always made everyone feel safe. He was especially kind to women.

"Here, dear, I'll help you through." Nanami said with a charming smile as he dubbed out his cigarette into the concrete. He told everyone to mind their legs, and only half of them listened.

"Oh, come the fuck on, she'll be fine." Remarked Toji, the boisterous asshole who spoke his mind with a sneer no matter who was listening. He rolled his eyes and moved his knees from your path. Nanami held his hands on your shoulders as you began down and you tried not to look at each of them but it was so hard. All of them were so endearingly attractive in their own specific ways.

Sure Toji was snide and downright rude as hell but his cocky grin made all of the girls' knees shake. It leveled everything about his asshole personality.

To your immediate left, was Geto, the quiet protagonist in the show who nudged the man to his side Gojo, who moved his blindfold up, moving out of your way accordingly with a smile.

Gojo turned his head down the stairs and everyone seemed to pay attention when his very telling blue eyes came from beneath his dark blindfold,

"Guys, let the intern through."

"Eat a dick, Satoru." Toji remarked from across the steps.

Everything was going fine. You were about halfway down now with Nanami's hands holding your shoulders protectively until you finally passed Toji by who began to loudly exclaim from behind you once his eyes fell low as you passed him by,

"Goddamn! She can walk past me anyday!"

You felt a very intentional smack to the back of your ass only to be returned by Nanami who you could hear reprimanding the eager man with a vicious grip to his collar before apologizing to you in your ear,

"I am so sorry."

"It's okay." You said with your face painted a blinding shade of red, and you looked down, just hoping to make it down the rest of these steps without being humiliated further.

Gojo and Geto had a little more class, only sharing a menacing look to each other at the sight of your ass so close as you passed and now you were finally closer to the bottom flight of stairs, still being led by Nanami.

Here at the bottom held two of the more unsavory characters that included Sukuna and Choso, two villains, however powerful and / or likable they were. Choso, the quieter one of the pair, only moved his outstretched legs, not giving a word in your direction before looking back down to his phone. His eyes were so catching and dark that you wished he would've kept your gaze. But that stare was only broken as you passed by the last loiterer there on the stairs, Sukuna.

He grew a cunning, mischievous smile and asked you with his voice that purred so seductively like a flirt no matter what he was saying,

"Hm, I've never caught your name on set?"

You told him your name and he hummed with a sultry, entertained rumble in his throat as he reached out to touch your blouse in a clear pass until he was stopped by Nanami, who was determined to not let you get touched twice.

"Hands to yourself, old man." Nanami grumbled before rubbing your shoulder as you reached the lower flight now. He asked if you'd like to be walked to your car as well, but you assured him it was fine, thanking him for being so kind.

"We'll see ya tomorrow!" Toji called down with his eyes narrowed in a haughty expression from his seat above, and you shivered hearing that.

"I promise we'll be more behaved if you take this way tomorrow! Have a good night!" Nanami promised as he made his way back up to the very first step, and you hurried now to your car. Your face was red, your arms were trembling, and your blood raced.

You weren't embarrassed or humiliated at all. Instead, it was closer to exhilaration to be so close to them in a cramped space like that. And it certainly didn't help that no one minded their manners. It only made you want it more. You fanned yourself and hoped that the front entrance that you usually took to get to the parking lot never got fixed.

[thebearer]

Teddy would be the cutest preteen, when Carmy still dropped her off she’d be embarrassed and would tell him to not kiss her goodbye but once he’s home she’d be jumping in his arms to tell him all about her day

oh god but that would destroy carmen. like absolutely wreck him the first time it happened.

"What's wrong with you?" You frown, watching Carmen shove a pan onto the stove, so hard it clanged against the metal backsplash.

Tina and Sydney had side eyed him carefully, sharing a mutual look with you that screamed the same thing- Carmen is in a mood.

"Nothin'." Carmen grumbled, huffing and turning in a semi circle, looking for his lamb. "Chefs! Where the fuck is my knife?"

"Right behind you, Jeff." Tina nodded towards the space behind him, where the knife sat- right where he left it.

"Hey," You move towards the stove, a pet peeve of Carmen's that always had him huffing, batting at you to move away from the surface. "What is the matter with you? You're in such a mood today."

"'m not in a fuckin' mood." Carmen snapped, huffing when you leaned back on the stove. "Can you stop? Gonna fuckin' burn yourself."

"No," You glare at him. "Not until you tell me what's got you in such a bitchy mood."

Carmen glared at you, eyes heavy and set in a firm stare. You knew it better than anyone. He was... hurt?

"Hey, come in the office with me." You nod, tugging at his hand gently. Carmen sighed, running a hand down his face, the start of an excuse on the tip of his tongue. After almost fifteen years together, you knew every single quirk and what it meant.

"Come with me." You glare, firmly, turning off the heat and moving the pan off the flame. You nodded at Sydney, a knowing look passing between the two of you as she commanded one of the new cooks to pick up for Carmen.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" You crossed your arms, leaning against the office door when it closed.

Carmen fell into his office chair, elbows on his knees, sighing heavily. His knee bounced, running an inked hand over his face, eyes rising to meet your curious, raised brow. "I, uh, I dropped Teddy off at school today." Carmen started.

You waited, lifting a brow for him to continue. "And?" You press. "Did she... say something?" Teddy was a pre-teen, officially. She had just turned twelve in August, started middle and it had been a whirlwind for everyone. Hormones, raging emotions, changes all around; it was too much almost.

"No. I mean... fuck, kinda. It wasn't- she didn't mean it bad, I don't think." Carmen rambled, knee bouncing harder and harder.

"What did she say?" You ask.

"She, uh... I was walkin' her to the drop off, ya know? And-And she, uh, she told me- asked me not to kiss her goodbye anymore." Carmen's lips tightened in a line, swiping a finger under his nose to hide his emotions. "It embarrasses her now."

"Did she say that?" You hum, walking over to him slowly.

"No, but it was, uh, it was implied." Carmen pouted, watching you stand in front of him.

You bite back your own grin, sitting in his lap instead. "She didn't mean it bad, Carm." You give him a soft look. "She's just..."

"I know." Carmen grumbled, pulling you closer into his chest. The rational side of him knew not to take it personally, that she didn't mean it in a malicious way.

"You still have Willow." You add with a grin. "She'll still take her drop off kisses. Still hold your hand and all. You still have a few years left of that."

"Yeah." Carmen grumbled, looking at the picture on his desk. You, Willow, and Teddy- the two girls wrapped under your arms, smiling widely at the camera. It was taken when the booths had been changed at The Bear. Carmen had cooked for the families as a celebratory, "break-in" of the new and improved seating. Teddy had just lost her front teeth, Willow was still small enough to sit in your lap, both sharing your smile and Carmen's wild curls.

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

cupcake bet

pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

word count: 8239

warnings: angst (kinda), fluff, smut, established relationship, big dick daddy dom joon, oral sex (blow jobs), face-fucking, explicit language, edgeplay, deep throating, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, rough sex, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, degradation

AO3

A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

You and Namjoon had been dating for a couple of months and have done pretty much all of the typical relationship things.

Unfortunately, the relationship seemed to have become lifeless as of recently.

Due to no fault of either but because university life was kicking both of your asses and it was making it hard for the both of you to concentrate on anything other than studying, not being helped by the fact that you lived in a dorm room with a roommate, Yuna, while he lived off-campus with his friends, the majority of your conversations were reserved for simple texts as of recent.

Not wanting your relationship to turn into a shell of its former self, one night, while you were taking a much-needed break, you texted your boyfriend about how much you missed him and that you wanted to spend the next day with him without university looming over your shoulders.

Namjoon had taken so long to reply that you grew guilty over the fact that you were intruding on his busy life, but to your surprise, he agreed.

You planned on meeting after both of classes were over in your dorm room, which was perfect for you since you only have two two-hour classes in the early morning while your boyfriend had until three pm, which gave you more than enough time to take a nap and get ready before he showed up.

At least, that was your plan anyway.

Who knew that long barely sleepless nights, a decent and not rushed lunch, and not having anything to do would make you crash in your bed and sleep for almost four hours.

It would've been longer if it wasn't for Namjoon waking you up, by bumping his leg against your desk and letting many of your things fall on the floor.

You simply stared at him, deadpanned while he had an awkward smile, after all, you had gotten so used to Namjoon's clumsiness that you were only shocked when it didn't happen.

"Hey baby," he said, pressing a peck on your lips. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you said with a yawn and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. "Wait! How long was I out? Oh my god is it too late to go? You didn't have anything planned did you? Oh my god, I'm so sorry that I -"

"Baby, baby, baby, relax, it's fine," he said, taking your hand in his right hand and running his fingers through your hair with his left, calming you down.

Maybe the past couple of days really did a number on you.

"It's almost four, there's more than enough time for a date," he pulled away from you and leaned against your desk. "And no, I didn't plan anything. I didn't have anything specific in mind so I thought we would choose together."

You nodded as you sat in your bed. "Alright, any suggestions?"

"I don't know," Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest. "We could have a movie marathon, or go on a hike, or just take a walk on the beach."

"My brain's still catching up, no hiking," you said with a pout and running your fingers down his arm.

Namjoon stared into your eyes as his tongue passed over his lower lip, his eyes darkening with intent. "Do you know what time Yuna's supposed to be back?"

You knew that look like the back of your hand, you had been on the receiving end of it plenty of times, and it had been a long time since the two of you have been together like that.

"No, I don't know," you pretended to be clueless while playing with the hem of your shirt. "But I think she'll be gone for a while," you gave him a once-over before settling on his dragon eyes. "Why? Do you have something in mind?"

His hand brushed your knee before slowly and temptingly moving up your thigh, stopping at your clothed center before running down your thigh, something he kept doing again and again. You didn't stop him, his touch was sending a shiver down your spine, like electricity was filling your body.

"Nothing in particular. It's just that -"

"It's been a while," you interrupted breathlessly.

Namjoon gave you his fan-favorite dimple smile before being replaced by his smirk. "I can't get it out of my head, and there's only so much my hand can do before I start missing your wet cunt, wrapped nice and tight around my cock," you let out a whimper at his words.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Namjoon leaned down, brushing his lips against yours, your heart beating rapidly.

"Hey Y/N! You awake yet?" Yuna walked through the door, causing you and your boyfriend to separate in a flash and your roommate to look like a deer in the headlights at what she had stumbled upon. "Did I interrupt something? Cause I can leave and come back later."

"N-no it's - it's fine," you said playing with the hem of your shirt again, refusing to look at Yuna until the feeling of embarrassment passed, out of the corner of your eye you saw that your boyfriend's shoes were taking his sole attention.

"Right," she dragged the word as she settled her bag on her bed. "Well, whatever it was, I'll be out of your hair in an instant," she moved towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "Just came to change my clothes."

Despite being left alone once again, you and Namjoon didn't talk, preferring to wait until Yuna left the room before continuing your conversation.

You looked around the room as you waited, your eyes falling on a box on top of Yuna's bed, a box you easily recognized due to how many times your roommate tended to buy from there. "Can I take one of the cupcakes?"

"Sure, there's coffee too" she yelled through the other side of the door.

You were up before she finished, silently asking your boyfriend if he wanted one, which he declined with a smile on his lips, choosing instead to do whatever on his phone. "Sugar has always been your weak spot,"

You stick out your tongue at him before turning back to the cupcake box, opening it, and taking one with buttercream frosting sprayed with multicolored sprinkles, pulling out a flyer for the shop in the process so you'd have to look at while eating, then you grabbed one of the coffee cups and returned to your bed.

In true you fashion, you eat all the frosting first before starting with the cake, taking gulps of coffee in between.

"I can't believe you finished all the frosting," Namjoon said teasingly.

"It's the best part," you pretended to be offended. "And the cake is really good! I eat one and then I eat the other."

"You're supposed to eat a bit of the frosting and a bit of the cake with each bite,"

"Who are you, the cupcake police?" you throw the coffee cup into the bin next to your desk before staring at your boyfriend with mock defiance.

"Ha-ha-ha, very funny," he said rolling his eyes. "But no, it's just better that way. It's a question of balance," he went on smartly. "The cake can be too dry and the frosting alone is too sweet."

"Too sweet? This coming from the man who said that when the world ends we need cotton candy makers?" you had to fight the urge to keep the shit-eating grin off your face at his flushed reaction. "My way works for people with small mouths, you know? Not everyone is privileged enough to be born with everything big like you."

You saw Namjoon's eyes darken for a quick second before Yuna walked out of the bathroom. "Please don't talk about things like that while I'm still around,"

You decided to focus on finishing eating the cupcake, refusing to look at your roommate, while your boyfriend tried not to laugh, taking the flyer from your hand and giving it a look.

The room fell into silence for five minutes until Yuna left the room.

"Apparently the Cafe is hosting a workshop on how to learn to make cupcakes in about an hour,"

"Perfect! We're going to be able to put your great cupcake science to good use!" you cleaned the crumbs off your lap, stood up from your bed, and walked towards your closet, wanting to change your clothes. "You'll be able to tell them that their cupcakes are too dry."

Namjoon snorted. "I didn't say they were too dry," he crossed his arms over his chest. "I said that without the frosting…" you looked at him with a frown and a pout, resulting in your boyfriend raising his arms in surrender, dropping the subject with a smile on his lips. "Is that what you want do to as a date?"

"Yeah, I think it'd be fun and new," you said with a shrug and stepped close to him. "Unless you have any other ideas?"

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and giving the top of your head a peck. "I think it'd be fun. Also, I'm in a mood for cupcakes,"

You couldn't resist teasing him. "You sure? Jin said you're not allowed in a kitchen without any adult supervision,"

In response Namjoon simply gave a smack on your ass, causing you to jump slightly and let out a gasp. "Go change, I'll call and make sure there are still spots left."

You walked to your closet, pulled out a dress, and went to the bathroom.

Your dress wasn't flashy or anything, you actually considered it to be quite simple. However, it hug your physique amazingly well, with special attention on your assets, sleeveless, showing a little bit of cleavage, and finishing just a little bit below your bottom.

It was most definitely not a dress for simply going to a cupcake workshop, but you wanted to tease your boyfriend, just a little bit, a taste of what he could get if he wanted to continue what Yuna interrupted.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you stepped out of the bathroom.

Your dress had the reaction you were looking for, with Namjoon's eyes going wide as he looked at you up and down.

Feeling smug, you gave a little twirl, allowing him to observe you from every angle, especially giving him a really good look at your backside, while trying to fight off the smirk on your lips. "How do I look?"

"That's…," he cleared his throat. "It looks good on you. Excellent choice." his voice was a bit strained.

Adorable, you thought to yourself as you walked passed him and towards the door, opening it for him. "Coming?"

Without any words, Namjoon walked past you and you were quick to follow, closing the door behind you. As the both of you walked in silence, you slid your arm through your boyfriend's. He didn't say anything, he simply smiled.

Luckily for you, the walking distance between the campus and the cafe wasn't long, so it didn't take you more than thirty minutes to arrive.

Once inside, the first thing you noticed was that there weren't many people around, and you couldn't tell if they were there for the workshop and just making time until the hour hit, or if they were just regular paying customers.

"Hi! My name is Woojin!" your attention was pulled to the guy who showed up in front of you, without you even noticing. He seemed to be about your age, and from his get-up, clearly an employee. "Did you call to book the cupcake workshop?"

"Yeah! We found the flyer and thought it would be fun," you gave him your friendliest smile, while Namjoon kept quiet, from the corner of your eye you saw him eyeing Woojin up and down. "Your cupcakes are really delicious, so we're taking this as an opportunity to learn."

"Oh, thanks. That's nice of you to say," you saw the employee's cheeks flushing at the compliment. And if your boyfriend standing up straighter was anything to go by, he noticed it too. But Woojin was quick to recompense himself. "Well, I hope that at the end of the workshop, you'll be able to make ones that are almost as good. Of course, we'll still going to keep a few manufacturing secrets," he said, winking at you. "We need to keep selling after all."

"Of course," you said with a small giggle. "In that case, I'd be very surprised if we made them so well on the first try."

"Still, cupcakes shouldn't be that hard to make, right?" Namjoon finally decided to say something, clearly not happy with the obvious flirting coming from the employee.

"Even if my friend thinks he's very good with his hands," you said very smugly, but from the moment of silence that followed afterward, you knew both men had caught the double meaning of your words.

Your boyfriend cleared his throat. "It's… a joke between us. Ignore her," you smirked at him but Namjoon simply rolled his eyes.

Before you could say anything else, a woman, who seemed to be either in her late thirties or early forties, came out of the back room. She had dyed blonde hair and, a shirt and skirt clinging to her figure so tightly that you wondered how she managed to get in them. Hell, she was showing so much cleavage that you, making you wonder why she even bothered wearing a shirt in the first place.

"Ah! Someone finally came. Fantastic!" she emphasized the last word as her gaze ran over your boyfriend. You couldn't help the frown showing on your face. "My name is Saebom and I'm the owner of this establishment," she didn't take her off of Namjoon as she spoke in a sweet sultry voice."And you are?"

"I'm Namjoon, and I came with Y/N,"

The owner flashed him a greedy smile, never taking her eyes off him. "Come with me! We're going to set up in the kitchen," she went back inside through the door she had come out, with Woojin right behind her.

"Someone has a crush on you," you whispered in a sing-song way.

"Was about to say the same," he said in a very disinteresting way.

"He was just being nice," you said, swinging your head from side to side with every word. "It was just some harmless flirting between employee and customer, nothing more," you shrugged. "You know, like the one Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook do every time they wanna get free drinks."

"Did you forget that they tend to take the bartender home? Or the bathroom,"

"My point is, is that it meant nothing," he simply let out a ' hmph ' at your words. "Someone's jealous."

Namjoon snorted. "Oh please, you think I didn't see the way you were looking at her," you pouted. "The stank eye you were giving said more than words ever could."

"I just felt it was rude of her to ignore the other people in the room," you said matter-of-factly.

He didn't buy it but decided to drop the subject. "Tell me, I'm thinking of spicing things up a bit," The glint in his eyes told you something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

But it did intrigue you. "I'm listening,"

"How about a small bet? On which one of us can make the most beautiful cupcake?"

You raised a brow at him. "And the stakes?"

"The same as usual, the winner dares the other to do something," with the smile he was giving you, you didn't lack any imagination on what kind of dares he was thinking of.

Bets were a usual occurrence in the BTS household, one you were easily pulled into when you and Namjoon first started dating. Surprisingly enough, this was the first time a bet between the two of you had ever gone in this direction.

And you were loving it.

You slid your index finger down his chest while biting your bottom lip. "I almost wanna let you win, just to see what you're thinking of,"

His smile widened even more, giving you a good look of his dimples. "We can cancel if you want -"

"I said almost," you interrupted. "I have every intention to win."

"At least I tried," he pulled you closer, giving you a peck on the head before letting go and walking through the kitchen door. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

You followed behind and entered the kitchen, finding Woojin and Saebom standing side by side behind a metal counter.

"While I get everything ready, please get settled. Namjoon, stand there, right across from me," she guided him behind her table, feeling up his arm the entire time. On his part, Namjoon seemed slightly taken aback by the sudden contact.

You tried not to laugh, but your shaking shoulders betrayed you. Since Saebom hadn't said anything to you, you settled across from Woojin.

"Just a moment, we're going to take out all the necessary ingredients and utensils," she walked away, followed by her employee.

"I'm scared," your boyfriend whispered as he leaned closer to you.

"Really? Why?" you on the other hand spoke at a natural volume.

"Did you see the way she looked at me?" he looked at you in pure amusement. "I'm afraid she'll think I'm her snack-time cupcake."

"Hahaha," you covered your mouth with your hand. "I thought you liked female attention."

"I have my limits," he said exasperated, which made you snort. But Namjoon quickly composed himself and gave you a smirk. "Just promise me you won't have a fit of jealousy, okay?"

"You think too highly of yourself," you played with your nails, pretending his words didn't have some sort of effect on you.

Unfortunately for you, Namjoon could see right through you, so he simply gave you a peck on the cheek. "You have nothing to worry about, your attention is all I want,"

Before you had a chance to reply your teachers of the hour returned, their arms full of all sorts of kitchen utensils and ingredients. Eggs, milk, butter, baking powder, sacks of flour and sugar, and other ingredients were laid out in front of you.

"First, we'll start with the aprons," she handed each of you an apron, which you both put on. "Do you need help Namjoon? Wait, don't move," Saebom walked around the counter to tie your boyfriend's apron, taking her sweet time doing it too. Namjoon gave you a helpless look but you simply shrugged.

In any other circumstances, you'd be jealous, obnoxiously so, but right now you found this entire situation nothing short of amusing.

And suddenly a lightbulb lit up inside your mind.

His little comment about jealousy had really gotten to you. Namjoon, well the BTS boys in general, were always surrounded by girls who always had a sliver of hope that might have a shot with them. And it got on your nerves quite a lot of times that he would simply let them.

But when the shoe was on the other foot, and there were a couple of guys trying to get your attention, he was always as cool as a cucumber. Not even when the other guys flirted with you right in front of him.

You never really had an opportunity to see him jealous.

So you decided that maybe now was the time.

As if it were a sign, you caught Woojin looking at you at that very moment, of which he immediately looked away and coughed, his cheeks turning rosy. Maybe Namjoon had been right when he said you had caught the employee's eye. Expect he, at least, seemed to have more decency than his boss. You almost felt sorry that you were pulling an innocent person into this little game.

"Woojin, can you help me with mine too please?" you caught Namjoon looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, not shocked at your words but clearly surprised, at least if his raised brow was anything to go by. The young employee nodded, avoiding your gaze and blushing slightly. He walked around the counter to help you, his hands working quickly around your hips to tie the apron, clearly not taking him as long as Saebom was taking.

You finally decided to meet your boyfriend's gaze. His attention was solely on you, and given his slightly furrowed eyebrows, clearly not happy about it. "Seriously? Do you really want to play that game?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you shrugged, fighting the shit-eating grin that was desperately trying to form on your lips.

He, however, did not with the one on his lips. "Alright, let's play," his tone of voice sounded so smug. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Right back at you,"

You saw the incomprehensible expressions appear on Woojin's and Saebom's faces, no doubt wondering what that little exchange had been about. But the owner quickly composed herself.

"Perfect! It suits you really well," she said giving his arm another squeeze before moving about back to the other side of the counter. "Now, you'll see that it's not very complicated to make cupcakes."

"The main thing is to put a lot of love into it," you held back from rolling your eyes. "You'll start by taking a bowl and mixing the sugar with the softened butter," following the instructions, you didn't find it too complicated so far. Namjoon also seemed to be doing okay so far. "Then add the eggs, and then the flour, baking powder, and salt. And then we mix well! Above all, we don't want any lumps."

Now this was the part you knew full well your boyfriend would have the most difficulty. He was a very strong man but also very accident-prone, especially in the kitchen.

"Oh! Careful Namjoon, I still see some lumps," to say you were surprised would be an understatement.

Namjoon looked at you helplessly before something sparked in his eyes, probably remembering the bet if you had to take a guess, of which he started mixing the ingredients again, purposely poorly you may add, for a couple of seconds before giving up with a sigh. "I feel like there are still some left, would you kindly help me?"

"Of course! Wait, let me see," Namjoon looked at you with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Saebom got behind him and placed her hand on his. "Here! See, you just have to get the movement right. It takes a bit of energy, but as muscular as you are, that shouldn't be a problem."

You knew he was doing it on purpose, but you still had to stifle a chuckle. She was distracting him more than she was helping.

You started this game, he had no reason to play fair, especially with a dare on the line. And you knew how to play too.

"Woojin, I could really use a hand too. If you don't mind," you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and spoke softly.

"Sure," there was that blush again. "Want me to show you how it's done?"

"Yes, please, I still have a lot of lumps," you tried in the most outrageously languorous voice possible. "And you look like you're good with your hands." you glanced at your boyfriend and saw him clench his jaw.

"I - I'm… Anyway, I guess I am, as far as baking goes," Woojin came next to you and showed you how to mix the batter. He clearly remembered the earlier comment if the flush on his cheeks was anything to go by.

And that was the way you wanted it. "Oh wow, you have a great technique. It's very impressive!"

He gave a small chuckle. "It comes with experience. Try it, you'll see you'll get the hang of it pretty fast,"

"Yes, I'm sure you have a lot of experience," you had the subtlety of a brick to the face, but seeing the look Namjoon was giving you was all that mattered.

Woojin, on the other hand, was having as much trouble as your boyfriend trying to stay focused. Poor guy, he looked like he didn't even know where to stand anyone.

"There, let yourself go Namjoon. You have to put your heart into it," damn, you had completely forgotten about her. "That's it, a little bit harder," Woojin looked at you a little embarrassed, and you thought you weren't being subtle.

"Hmm, there, I think it's - It should be good now," she let go of him and took a second to regain her composure. "There, it's perfect! Now all you have to do is add the milk and vanilla, and then divide the mixture into the molds."

You both did that in just a minute. Afterward, both Saebom and Woojin put the molds in the oven.

"Now we wait for about twenty minutes," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Then, you'll have to do the most technical part, frosting and decorations. In the meantime, I'll take care of the cafe," she looked at her employee. "Woojin, before taking your break, please seat our guests for a tasting while the cupcakes are baking."

The young man nodded, taking you out of the kitchen and seating you at a table in the middle of the place. Giving each a cookie and a hot chocolate, on the house, before walking back into the kitchen.

However, before he left, he gave you an indefinable look. Of which you gave a small wave with a little wink. Then with a quick glance at Namjoon, Woojin disappeared through the door.

Saebom, on her part, pretended to follow her employee before stopping to turn at your boyfriend. She put her hand on his arm, smiling wholeheartedly. "I'll be right back. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me."

Namjoon smiled back, placing his hand over hers, his gaze seductive. "Thank you very much, I'll do that," you simply rolled your eyes at the words.

When the door closed behind her, your boyfriend turned to you. "That Woojin seems to have really caught your eye,"

"He's pretty nice," you played dumb, glad to see your plan was working.

Namjoon was doing his best to hide it, but you could tell he didn't like it one bit. "Yeah, you're being very nice to him too,"

"Oh, I'm sorry, does that bother you? That maybe you're having a hard time fully concentrating on your cupcake?" you gave him your best cheshire grin. "I think that's called jealousy."

He snorted. "It's a good thing that Saebom is there to comfort me,"

You snorted, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. "I'm under the impression that it's Saebom that's doing all the work,"

"What I can say," he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "She loves a man with little experience."

"If only she knew the truth about you," you said giggling.  You were liking this game of yours a little bit too much, and why shouldn't you? It seemed like you were the clear winner. And you intended to take full advantage of it.

"Well, I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it a lot," you took another sip. "I can almost see your hair stand whenever she gets close to you," you started playing with your cookie, he wasn't looking at you but you knew he was listening. "Luckily for me, Woojin is pretty cute."

Namjoon clenched his jaw and gave a deep sigh. "If you think you're going to win like that," he looked at you, his eyes were dark and dangerous. "You're seriously mistaken."

You wouldn't deny that the way he was looking at you was making you hot and bothered, making you straighten your back while rubbing your thighs together. Namjoon seemed to have noticed, giving the smirk he was throwing your way.

He turned back to his phone. "It's a losing strategy, it takes too much effort to make puppy dog eyes at him," he said matter-of-factly. "You're going to mess up your cupcake while it has no effect on me," he looked at you again, pinning you to the spot, his voice getting deeper. "Because I know you're doing it on purpose."

You shrugged and tried to emulate the look he was giving you. "We'll see,"

His ringtone suddenly rang out. Whoever was calling him, he didn't look too happy about it given his frown. "Sorry, I have to take this. It'll only be five minutes," he left to take the call outside.

In your case it was still break time, so you stayed alone at the table, finishing the rest of your snack. You were sure Namjoon was jealous, after all, he made the comment about Woojin as soon as you sat down. That's proof that your strategy was working. He says it makes you distracted, but you're pretty sure he is more distracted than you.

And you don't intend to stop now.

Now that you thought about it, you needed to think about the kind of dares you wanted to give to him. Should you go for something nice and romantic? Or something a little bit stupid and embarrassing?

Hmmm… You'll think about it later, right now you needed to win first. And to do that you needed to think about how you were going to decorate the cupcake. So with whatever time you had left, you spent it brainstorming topping decorations.

As soon as Namjoon returned from his call, the owner came out, saying it was time to go back to the kitchen.

Saebom was touching Namjoon's elbow as she talked to him, while Woojin took the cupcakes out of the oven and placed them on the counter. Neither of the cupcakes looked particularly better than the other.

However, you still found funny that, even with the owner doing almost everything for him, she clearly wasn't focused on the task. At least you had the excuse of having a student instead of the teacher.

And although yours certainly wasn't the best, you still took the opportunity to brush Woojin's hand while smiling at him. "They're very beautiful, thanks for your help,"

Of course, Namjoon noticed but acted as if nothing had happened.

Perfect!

You still had the advantage, and you knew it would drive me crazy.

You tackled decorating for what felt like an hour.

Saebom spent the entire time touching Namjoon, taking every opportunity to touch him, take his hand, feel his arm. And of course, laugh out loud at his attempts at humor.

But you counterattacked by flirting shamelessly with Woojin, following Saebom's example of seizing every opportunity to get close to him. Laughing out loud at his slight clumsiness, twirling your hair around your finger, coos and compliments whispered in a languorous voice, making sure to ask for his help at each step.

And right now, hopefully for the finishing blow, swooning over his talent with the piping bag. "Woojin, that frosting looks really delicious," you took some on the tip of your finger and licked it slowly, with greed, method, and application.

It was fairly obvious what you were mimicking, which would explain the way Namjoon's eyes had widened at your audacity. And you probably affected poor Woojin as well, who had let out a shaky breath while not daring to look at you. He seemed more captivated than ever on the frosting preparations.

Even though you had done everything during this session to keep your boyfriend's attention on you, you never thought you'd have the boldness to go so far.

And a big part of you felt a little ashamed of yourself. Not only because you'd made a big deal out of it, but also because you had dragged a sweet and honest guy who was just trying to help into your shenanigans.

You could feel the poor man struggling to keep his professional front, frequently glancing awkwardly at Namjoon, who for his part, just kept clenching his jaw silently.

The small victory of having the intended effect on Namjoon felt incredibly weird, even if you had to admit to yourself that you were having a lot of fun putting up the act.

When the cupcakes were finished, Saebom clapped her hands. "Wonderful! I congratulate the both of you, they're lovely!" she turned her back to you. "I'll wrap them up from you and you can take them home."

You paid for the workshop while she packed your cupcakes in two small boxes, putting each in a paper bag.

Final call, yours was definitely the worse of two evils. The rest of the boys will never let you hear the end of it once they find out that Namjoon bestest you at making food. Especially Jin.

Afterward, she walked you out, a big smile on her face. "Don't hesitate to come back, the door is always open! Have a good evening,"

As she went back inside the cafe, you and your boyfriend turned towards each other. And Namjoon was definitely not happy.

On the outside, he was the picture perfect of calm, but those dragon eyes of his told a completely different story. There was something angry in those eyes, the likes of which you don't remember ever seeing before.

It scared you a little bit, if you were to be completely honest, it was too unknown for you. "Hehehe, at least I managed to distract you just a little bit, right?" you said awkwardly, trying to liven up the mood.

Unfortunately, it didn't work since Namjoon couldn't even be bothered to give you a pity smile.

You hoped that the evening air on the walk back to your dorm would help calm him down, even if just a little bit.

"Hum, E - excuse me, hum… Y/N,"

Shit!

Before you had the chance to walk away, Woojin came out of the cafe. And if Namjoon's looks could kill, the poor guy would be dead on the spot.

"When you first arrived I thought the two of you were a couple, but maybe I was wrong," he scratched the back of his head, clearly nervous. "I'm not very good at these things," he had a flush on his cheeks. "But I think… I… Anyway, here's my number."

You could feel Namjoon tense up as Woojin gave you the business card of the cafe with his number scribbled on it. And if you were hoping that your boyfriend would calm down before, that hope had gone straight to the trash.

"Um, thanks," you accepted the card, not knowing what else to do that would turn this weird situation any better.

"I hope it's not inappropriate," he gave a very awkward chuckle. "I'm really sorry if it is," he was looking at his feet now, the poor guy. "Of course, you can always throw it away. G - Goodbye."

He had spoken and disappeared into the cafe so fast that your brain needed to take a couple of seconds to catch up, while Namjoon was staring at the door with murder in his eyes. If you had felt weird about the situation before, now it was like you were drowning in an ocean of guilt.

You definitely had taken it too far.

"Wanna eat them at my place?" Namjoon finally spoke in a detached tone. "That way we can end this and see who will give the dare."

You felt your heart sink. This afternoon, this dumb game between you had been one big mistake from your part. You bit your bottom lip and nodded, following him in complete silence. Namjoon was walking beside you, brow slightly furrowed.

You wished you knew what he was thinking. "Are you thinking about your dare?" you spoke quietly and softly, wanting to break the quiet atmosphere. His eyes looked deeply into yours and he bit his lip but didn't give any answer.

And you didn't bother trying to break the silence again.

The sun had already disappeared by the time you arrived at the front of his building. He opened the door for you, letting you inside before taking the lead when going up the stairs, with you following behind. With each step, your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest, so much so that the sound completely muffled any other noises in your ears.

Still, without a word, he opened the door to the apartment and let you in. It was surprisingly empty given that seven people lived there. As you entered the apartment, you set the paper bags on the table in the middle of the living room. You heard the door close behind you, and a second later, the sound of the lock turning.

You turned around, finding Namjoon leaning against the door staring at you, brow furrowed and jaw clenched. There was something animal-like in his eyes, it was both scaring you and turning you on.

"Did you have fun?" his voice was an octave lower. "Did you like that? Making me jealous?" He took a step towards you, making you take a step back. "Did you think that seeing you act like a slut would drive me crazy?"

Every time he took two steps closer, you took one back, trying to create some sort of distance.

"I just - I wanted - You never really acted jealous, I just wanted to…" You only stopped once your legs hit the foot of his bed, causing you to fall backward and let out a gasp in surprise. When did you enter his room?

He closed the door behind him, a bit more forcefully than probably intended, and continued to stalk towards you. You were pretty sure he could see the wet patch in your panties if the smirk on his lips was anything to go by, the tent on his pants being clearly visible.

"I hope you're ready to take full responsibility for your actions," he was a few feet away from you, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his zip down.

You bit your bottom lip, wanting to play dumb for a little bit. "Hmm, what am I responsible for?"

He came closer, set his hands on your thighs, his face was inches away from yours and his gaze was burning with desire.

In a flash, he took hold of your legs and pulled you towards him, causing you to lay down and your dress rise, fully exposing your underwear, wrapping them around his hips, and making your crotches rub against each other.

You moan softly at the feeling, closing your eyes at a sensation you haven't felt in a long time.

Unfortunately, Namjoon didn't let you enjoy it for too long before pulling away from you.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you stared at him with a pout and a frown, but he didn't seem to care and simply took his shirt off, immediately turning your frown upside down as you indulged yourself in the image of the honey gold chiseled chest and hard muscled arms.

One of his large hands settled on your face, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at his dark dragon eyes as his thumb rubbed your bottom lip. With his other hand, he took hold of your right hand and placed it on his clothed crotch, making you fondle his needy cock. He leaned closer to your ear and whispered in a deep languorous voice. "For making daddy this hard for you,"

He pulled away from you again, and this time you followed behind, trying to get a grasp of the touch back. Almost as if hypnotized, you didn't notice until you fell off the bed and landed on your hands and knees on the floor, right in front of him.

You looked up at him, seeing him already looking at you with a raised brow, waiting for your next move.

You were like a worshiper looking up at its God, waiting for its blessing. And God, you were nothing if not a dutiful follower for him.

"Yes, daddy" you said breathlessly. "I'm ready to take full responsibility."

Smugly pleased, Namjoon beckoned you forward with a come hither gesture and you obeyed, crawling to him all the while keeping your eyes glued to his. You stopped once you were close enough, waiting for your next instruction.

"On your knees babygirl," you lifted your top half and made quick work of pulling his pants and underwear all the way down, when his cock sprung up your tongue passed over your lips while keeping your eyes on him.

His hand graced your hair for a few seconds before settling behind your head. "Open," you did as told as he brought your head closer to his length, painting your lips with his leaky tip before shoving his cock inside until your nose was rubbing against his pelvis.

You gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept your hands to yourself, your nails digging into the palm of your hands to help endure the early discomfort you tended to have due to his size every time you took him.

Namjoon thrusted into your mouth as he guided your head to meet his movements. His pace gaining speed with each thrust. All the while, he kept his eyes on you.

"My good girl, letting daddy fuck her throat raw," he grunted in pleasure, the messy picture of your eyes starting to tear up, your hollow cheeks with spit running down its corners, was getting him even harder.

But he wasn't as lost in the feeling of your mouth, he still hadn't forgotten about your little game, and the thought of it was enraging all over again. "Bet you wish it was someone else's cock down your throat." A whimper escaped you as you were pulled out of the moment, confused by his words.

"Bet you wish it was Woojin who was here," his thrusts gained a ferocious strength and speed. "Bet you wish it was his tiny dick in your mouth," you shook your head to the best of your abilities, telling him no, by now the tears in your eyes leaving freely. "Really? Then why were you acting like such a pathetic little slut?"

Subconsciously, you started rubbing your thighs, however, that act didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend. "Tsk, such a fucking whore," the grip on your hair tighten and pulled you out of him. "Getting wet thinking of Woojin filling your needy cunt, are you?"

"N-no," you said through tears, still on your knees for him. "I-I only want daddy."

Namjoon leaned down until he was close enough for you to feel each other's breath, grazing his lips against yours but never pressing them together, much to your frustration. "Prove it," he whispered, his voice so deep that it sent shivers down your spine.

Letting go of your hair, you quickly stood up and moved towards the bed, removing your underwear in the process. Then, you took a seat on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he could see how wet you were, and throwing your panties at him.

He stomped towards you, his dark dragon eyes showed a hint of amusement at your actions, but that still didn't stop him from grabbing you by the neck and forcing you to look at him.

Namjoon leaned down again but this time, he gave a gentle bite to your bottom lip before smashing his to yours. It was a heated and tough kiss, hungrily devouring each other's lips and swallowing whatever noise the other made, the hand on your throat squeezing it here and there.

With a harsher bite to your lip, which caused you to gasp, he shoved his tongue inside, dominating yours very easily. He pulled away from your lips but kept the hand on your throat, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Hands and knees babygirl," he gave a nip to your earlobe as he whispered the words, stepping away from you afterward.

You did as told, crawling on your hands and knees until you were a little over the middle of the bed, with Namjoon moving right behind you, standing on his knees as he knead your ass with one of his hands, while the fingers of the other were rubbing the wetness around your slit.

He inserted two fingers into you, thrusting them slowly, making you let out soft moans. "Do you like it when daddy does this?" he added another finger, curling them precision against your sweet spot.

"Yes," you moaned breathlessly, starting to move your hips in tune with his hand, for he was moving too slow for you. "Please daddy, I want more."

"Hmm," he stopped thrusting but let his fingers remain inside you. "Do you think you deserve it, after what you did?" he removed his fingers and used them to pinch your clit, causing you to yell at the sensation.

"D-daddy!" He ignored you, choosing instead to stroke his fingers through your back. You thought nothing of it until you heard the sound of fabric tearing. Namjoon had grabbed your dress by its edges and ripped it apart from top to bottom, throwing the item onto the floor with a certain disdain. "Hey-"

Before you could complain, you felt a hard hit on your ass, quickly followed by three others in a row, making you let out gasps and cries at the smacks. "I'll buy you a new one," he growled, giving you one more smack before lining himself to your entrance and thrusting full force inside of you, making you take every inch of his large cock all at once.

You yelled at the sudden intrusion, not expecting your boyfriend to start so rough. His hands settled on your hips with a tightening grip, drawing himself back until only the tip remained before slamming into you with as much force as the first time, making you arch your back.

His pace rough but deep, his tip continuously brushing against your cervix. "Do you like this baby? Do you like taking daddy's big, fat cock?"

"Y-yes," you moaned out, your nails digging into the bedsheet, just so you could have something to hold on to.

"Oh really?" his pace started to slow down but remained deep. "Then why were you whoring yourself to Woojin?" He didn't give you a chance to reply, as he gained speed and started jackhammering into your cunt.

His name falling out of your lips mixed with moans and whimpers, his groans and grunts, and the sound of lewd squelching as his skin slapped against yours was bringing you closer to your high. You could do nothing other than to take his unrelenting assault on your pussy, you weren't sure if your brain was still functional but you knew no other sound would leave your lips other than moans.

"Did you like the attention he gave you baby?" his thumb started rubbing circles on your clit. "Do you think he'd be able to fill you up like daddy does?"

"N-no," you tried to reply, your voice hoarse. You could feel yourself getting closer to your high, and from the way your walls clenched around his length, Namjoon could tell as well, which is why he stopped all movement. Your orgasm disappearing bit by bit, tears of frustration started falling. "D-daddy please."

With a snap of his hips, Namjoon started his relenting pace once more, moving with such force that the bedframe started hitting the wall.

"Your cunt was made for me babygirl," Namjoon started to feel his own end approaching, and yet, despite his pace started to falter, he was still going with a wild and bruising pace. "No other cock will be able to get you like this."

"D-daddy, p-please," you couldn't hold on anymore, you felt like you were about to burst. "I c-can't," a loud whimper escaped you, interrupting your weak words.

"Cum baby," he kept switching between rubbing and pinching your clit. "Cum all over daddy's cock, show him who's the one that gets you this fucked."

You cried out you reached your climax, releasing all over him. Your top half dropped onto the bed, you felt so tired and weak to stand on your hands, even if you wanted to. With your walls trapping him inside, it wasn't long until you felt him stiffen against you and paint them.

You let out a whimper as he pulled out of you. Your legs fell on the bed, not being able to hold them up any longer, and Namjoon lay down beside you, panting as he pulled you closer to him.

"You okay?" his thumb started rubbing circles on your hip. "I wasn't too rough?"

You kissed his arm, feeling too tired to reach his lips. "My- My legs are shaking," you gave him a sleepy smile and got one of his dimpled ones as a reply. "I should get jealous more often."

He snorted. "I don't my heart could take going through that shit again," he planted a peck on your head. "I don't think my bed can either."

You giggled softly and closed your eyes, not being able to keep them open any longer. Namjoon didn't say anything else either, he simply cuddled you and every couple of seconds would kiss a part of either your head or hand.

It wasn't long until you fell asleep, feeling more tired and content than you'd been in days.

[ftmtoyboy]

I've always loved fucking desperate little sluts like you. You're so damn easy to please and submissive, you'll let us do anything to you, won't you? Yes, I said us. My gf and I are both bi and whatever I get, she gets too.

I'd fuck your ass deep and fast while she rides your face. She may even take pity on you and suck your cute little boy clit for you. Or maybe she'll ride your pussy with her strapon while I'm under you thrusting up into your tight ass. I'd be choking you out hard while she sucks your nipples.

We'd just hotbox the room and rape your body until we're all too high to think straight. My girl would pull her strapon out and take a turn with your ass while I fuck your throat, grabbing onto your hair and forcing you down my length to take it all while she spanks you and scratches at your back.

My girl is a squirter, so when we're finished with you, we'll both stand above you and cum all over your face and chest. Barely able to breathe, shaking, sore, stoned and cockdrunk as fuck, we'll leave you in a mess like the rape meat you are. Maybe we won't lock your room door on the way out so anyone can see how easy it is to have you begging for more. Turning you into the street's cumdump whore seems like it'd be too damn easy. Just tie you to the bed and let anyone who wants a piece of you have you all to themselves until they cum. It wouldn't take long until it's all you know how to do and all you want to do.

We'd lock you up in our apartment and whore you out to anyone willing to pay what you're worth, and we'll even use you to film porn so you're always being fucking useful to us, even when we're not the ones fucking you. Everything about your sad new life is sex. The rape becomes so normal to you that you stop recognising it as rape at all. You're just a set of holes to be stuffed and cum in.

We'll have you walk around naked for easy free use. Whenever we want some stress relief we can just call for you to service us like the slave you're so good at being. I could bend you over any surface in our place and you'd thank me. My girl could force you to the ground and ride your face, and after you've woken back up from being passed out from lack of air, you'd happily ask her if she wants more.

We'd tattoo our initials onto you so we'd own you. Every time you look in the mirror, there it is, right above your collarbone. You'd be collard and leashed at all times when walking freely, and have your arms locked behind your back whenever we pimp you out. Blindfolded when we want to move you, so you never know where you're about to be fucked within an inch of your life. Leaking cum from an asshole that can barely close anymore and a pussy so tender and overestimated, that even wearing panties causes an intense mix of pleasure and pain.

You belong on your knees with cocks and pussies all around you, using you as the worthless toy you are.

Fuck, I wanna wake up tomorrow tied down for you and your gf. You two should be allowed to rape my holes however and whenever you want, use my body for fun or money as you like. Keep me overstimulated to the point even brushing against my pussy makes me cry, and then pound into it anyway. Pass me between the two of you so you’re always satisfied and I never get a break, and sell me to others when you get bored of that

[dabislittlemouse]

So I saw your slutty dressing reader and it's AMAZING! How does Dabi react to reader that dresses in things like sweet lolita/ouji/coquette clothing? His corruption kink would go feral with all her cute matching lingerie and high knee socks she'll wear with pleated skirts around the house. Part of him feels guilty for ruining her cute panties with his spunk but she can't deny she loves when he ruins her while her plushies look away. 💋

Ohoo~ I have actually written something coquette like this <3 Peppers is one of my works which you could be interested dear anon, it is inspired by Lana del Rey’s song.

❀*ੈ I personally headcanon that Dabi loves so much innocent looking girls, so sweet, so angelic, those girls who dress up all cute and pretty, especially with coquette styles, because it is such a contrast to the way he looks, dark and edgy and tall, meanwhile there is you, with your cute frilly dresses and your high knee socks and your pretty necklaces <3

❀*ੈ Dabi knows that deep down you aren’t that innocent as you look outside, he loves to break your mind and turn you into his obedient little slut. He loves how you look so fragile, so angelic, but those thoughts and desires of yours are the most sinful things known to man.

❀*ੈ He sighs in pleasure and puts a little flower right beside your ear as you are taking his cock down your throat <3 🌸

❀*ੈ Dabi has noticed how dear those plushies are to you, you always keep them close for comfort and he has stolen plenty of them for you. He caught you turning the plushies to face the wall once when he tried to fuck you and he laughed.

“Awww baby, too embarrassed the plushies might look? C’mon let’s give ‘em a show” he said while turning the plushies back in their original position, facing you both while he rammed his cock deep inside of you, and you could do nothing but whine in embarrassment.

❀*ੈ The thought that you have actually humped one of your teddy bears while thinking of Dabi has him literally going crazy, all bricked up, he actually sits back and urges you to hump that same teddy bear in front of him while he strokes his cock and watches you in amusement as you struggle to cum.

❀*ੈ He gets you the cutest panties, always imagining how they’d look like covered in his cum <3

❀*ੈ Dabi always stands beside you to watch you getting ready in the mirror, when you add red lipstick on those plump lips of yours, glitter around your pretty eyes, blush, that sweet perfume of yours that has his head spinning. You don’t just look sweet, you smell so sweet, it has him salivating for you.

❀*ੈ He still asks himself how did he get his hands into you, a man like him who brings nothing but death and destruction, leaving burnt corpses behind, being with someone like you, heavenly and delicate like a flower, with your angelic voice ‘singing’ in his ear as he fucks his seed deep inside of you over and over.