#so if it seems like he has weirdly wide hips that's why

[star-light-shadows]

5 Years, 5 Heroes.

Happy 5th Anniversary, Deltarune!

[rafecameronsslxt]

I can't get the thought of Rafe making you touch yourself and the later assisting you and roughly fucking you all while Barry watches just😩

C'mon baby

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, fingering, masturbating, p in v, rough Rafe, bruising, light dirty talk, and implied after care.

A/N: I'm not into Barry but like you never know…

Rafe has been acting weirdly sweet, a sickening sweet like pink cotton confection made untouched at the carnival. As a dutiful boyfriend, he takes you out to your favorite restaurant by the ocean, platonic cuddles at the beach because they’d usually lead to sex, and sweet talking you to let his coke dealer watch you guys have sex at the end of the day in his bedroom. Despite Barry being good-looking and muscular, you were off-the-charts nervous, and your body was rigid to the touch.

   “Rafe, but,” You trail off after your boyfriend tells you Barry is halfway here. “C’mon baby, you’ll do great. Barry’s cool.” Rafe begins to pepper kisses from your jawline to your shoulder and then slowly rubs his thumbs over your shoulders, massaging you. You unwind in his hands, the tensity built up in your muscles, leaving with each benign knead. “He’s here.” Rafe leans down to kiss you delicately while you look at him through your lashes. The innocent look on your face makes him smile as he walks out of the room. Once he leaves, you quickly search Rafe’s drawers for an oversized shirt; finding a polo, you take off your bra but leave your panties on. 

   Their footsteps inch closer, and you position yourself on your knees to sit on your back legs with a seductive grin, watching them walk in; both of their eyes descend to your nipples, poking through the navy blue-white striped button-up. Rafe’s face contorts into pride, and Barry looks more than pleased, both already sporting a hard-on at the sight of your perfect perky tits. “Princess,” He says solemnly. Barry sits in the comfortable chair beside the bed, pushed to the wall, creating a little distance between you and him. That is precisely why Rafe liked this, Barry could watch, but he couldn’t touch you. Not to lay a finger on your pretty body just so your boyfriend could show off your beauty as long as you were ok with it. 

   Rafe moved onto the bed behind you, pushing your thighs open for Barry while Rafe sucked on your neck to leave purple spots. “Take off your panties to show him your pretty pussy.” He whispered against your ear, looking to Barry, who seemed to be waiting on you. You stop, sitting on your knees so you can spread your legs wide, giving Barry the ideal view of you slightly, lifting your hips, throwing your black panties on the floor near his feet, and showing off your flawless white teeth and then Rafe brings your hand to your mound. “Rub your clit, but start slow, hmm?” You nod, obliging, but first, massage your wetness to your clit and begin rubbing light circles that emit whimpers from your mouth. Next, Rafe brings his hands under your shirt to fully cup both breasts. Barry starts to palm himself through his jeans, watching your idle speed grow quicker until your jaw is slack and you're leaning on Rafe for support. “Finger yourself.” You ease your middle finger into your tightness, and you can only imagine Rafe’s cock splitting you open. You observe Barry while he unzips his pants and takes his lengthy cock out.

   The view of Barry stroking himself has you getting more aroused and thrusting two fingers in. Rafe is pinching your hard buds and raising the shirt over your boobs to display them, only adding to the sweat beading on your forehead and your hair sticking to your face. Your legs shake visibly, and you close your eyes until Rafe removes your hand and aggressively tugs his shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor. “Rafe.” You whine out, desperate to be touched again, to be whole. “She’s so fucking needy, huh, Barry?” He agrees with Rafe, and Barry’s eyes darken as he thrusts himself into his hand languidly. “So needy,” His voice wanders. 

   Rafe pushes your body to the bed so that your head hangs off enough to see an upside-down Barry masturbating, his mouth parted in a haze, looking into your eyes. Unexpectedly Rafe thrusts into you, causing a loud pornographic moan and the bed to creak with each drive of his dick. “Fuck Barry, it feels so good!” You cry out, your manicured fingers grasping Rafe’s shoulders, indenting your nails to his skin. You wrap your legs around Rafe’s waist, which creates a deep thrust bottoming out while Rafe’s big hands clasp your tits, almost hurting, but the snap of his hips against yours suffices the pain; Rafe unwraps your legs from his waist and flips you over so not that you're on top. You bring your hands down to his chest and start grinding on his dick, setting your own pace until Rafe bruisingly grabs your hips, stilling your movements and completely pounding into your cunt. Piercing yet pleasurable moans and grunts come from all three of you as Rafe slaps your ass to leave a red imprint and grabs your flesh roughly.

   Your eyes shut from overstimulation while you rub your clit weakly. Rafe grabs your chin, and you can faintly hear him say look at Barry. You do, but your vision is blurred, your inner muscles clamp around Rafe’s dick with each hit of your cervix, and tears stream down your face as every noise of Rafe and Barry plunges to white noise until your legs give out, falling onto Rafe’s chest, your own heaving up and down while you feel Rafe’s cum spurt into you. You lift your head to look at Barry, sweating, and his hand covered in his cum, some of it dripping down to his jeans. He leans back in relief but gets up and heads to the bathroom. 

   Before you get off your boyfriend, give him a chaste peck and cover yourself in the crumpled duvet, watching Rafe throw shorts on. Barry comes back out. “Thanks for the show, princess.” He says, walking out with Rafe, making your cheeks twist to red. 

   Rafe comes jogging into the room. “Mhm, I’ll draw us a bath. Are you ok, baby?” He asks with genuine concern. You expose your crimson and slightly bruised body to him. “Yes, but you better cuddle me all day tomorrow. No excuses. Your schedule will be cleared.” You say as he smiles at your silliness, but you're dead serious and lean up to kiss Rafe softly.

[dracowars]

luke figuring out reader's father is obi-wan. like, it would be so awkward talking to obi-wan's force ghost now, "how am i suppose to tell him you're my partner?" 😭😭

general kenobi | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x kenobi!reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where luke finds out who y/n's father is

a/n: how my mind works: if obi-wan is y/n's father, then satine has to be her mother lmao (it's not mentioned!) there is just no other way for me

warnings: none

universe: star wars

"W-What did you just say?", Luke stutters, halting in his steps, his eyes growing wide while he looks at you as if you just turned into a rancor right before his eyes. Since he stopped you in the middle of your rant with this kind of expression on his face, you frown, not quite sure what he wants you to repeat since you just kept talking and talking.

"Uhm, I just said that we are going to carry out this mission without any problems..?", you say, but it sounds more like a question since you are feeling really unsure as his facial expression does not change. Judging by his big eyes and open mouth, this was apparently not the answer he was hoping for and even though you are confused, you can't help but find him especially cute right now.

Usually, Luke has a strict plan, always following every order, but right now it seems like there is no logical explanation for whatever is going on in his mind and you genuinely can't wait to know what caused this sudden change in his demeanour.

"N-No, no. I mean about your.. your father?", Luke tries again, but this time he actually seems like his mind has stopped spinning and he came back to the here and now, looking at you like you are the one acting weirdly. Which you definitely aren't, but you can't suppress a small giggle as he appears to hang on your every word in this moment. Now that he mentioned your father, you at least know what caught him off guard and you can hopefully help him.

"Oh, about that. Well, I basically only said that I will guide you the same way my father used to guide yours in the Clone Wars", you shrug nonchalantly, still not getting why this simple fact got him all messed up.

"And your father is...?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?", you finish his sentence, giving him the answer he has been waiting for. Suddenly, Luke's eyes grow even bigger - if that is even humanly possible - and now you are not sure if you may have actually turned into a rancor right in front of him. But no, you are still very much human and Luke is still very much acting weird.

"Luke? Are you alright? Do I need to call a medic?", you ask, actually concerned now that he hasn't answered you for at least two minutes. He is just standing in front of you, frowning as he seems to be connecting things in his head. The more you look at him, the more it dawns on you what your words might have to do with all of this.

"Wait, you didn't know?", you question, a more or less humourless chuckle leaving your lips as you can't believe that he actually did not know this very important fact about you. About you and who your father is.

"You only told me about your mother, really. And you never dropped any names! I knew your father was a Jedi but not that he was the Obi-Wan Kenobi!", Luke whisper-yells at you now, finally regaining his voice, looking like his whole view of the galaxy was shattered with this one single statement.

The way he runs his hand through his hair, ruffling through it, and how he bites down on his lower lip, finally breaks you and you erupt into a fit of laughter. He looks so cute, all flabbergasted and confused, that you just can't help yourself but to laugh at the weirdness of this situation. You would really like to say that you did talk about your very prominent father, but right now, you can't think of one moment where you actually dropped his name. And this makes you laugh even more and, slowly but surely, Luke starts to laugh too.

"May I introduce myself?", you manage to bring out after your laughter died down, hands on your hips as you try to catch your breath, feeling exhausted by all the laughing. "I'm Y/N Kenobi. At your service, General Skywalker."

Holding out your hand, you wait for him to place a gentle kiss on the back of it as part of your introduction, but Luke only shakes his head in amusement, still too caught up in his thoughts.

"You can't be serious, Y/N!", he almost reproaches you, running his hands over his face while sighing. Then, he takes a step closer, grabbing your hand and placing it against his chest as he leans in.

"How am I supposed to tell him that you are my partner? That we are a thing?", Luke whispers, but he is doing it so quietly as if he expects your father to listen in on every word, putting strong emphasis on his last words.

"I mean, that is not really my problem, is it?", you tease him, taking his proximity to you as a chance to place a soft kiss on his cheek, which riles him up even more. Caressing his cheek with one hand, you fix his disheveled hair with the other and smile your brightest smile at him while he apparently sees his life passing by.

"You are evil, you know that right?", Luke whines, pouting while you are enjoying this more than you probably should. But deep inside, you got a feeling that your father already knows about the two of you. You certainly did not talk to him about it, however, he has always been good at observing and you feel like this ability got even better since he became one with the Force.

"Just.. don't act like you did right now and you will be fine", you giggle, pinching his cheek before leaving a quick kiss on his lips. You catch his eye, wanting him to say something, anything, but all you see is utter fear. Only when you notice that he is looking at something behind you, you follow his stare and see your father, in all his Force ghost glory, making his way over to the both of you.

"Oh, is that Leia over there? I really need to talk to her about the mission", you lie with a bright smile on your lips and you squeeze Luke's hand to give him strength and support.

Completely frozen, he stands in front of you, but he somehow manages to take a deep breath after a few seconds to mentally prepare himself for what is about to come. The strongest Jedi you know nearly gets defeated by a simple conversation with your father, his master.

"I will leave you two alone then", you say your goodbye, waving to your father who is coming closer as you two talk, and make your way to actually find Leia. Turning around one last time, you give your boyfriend a thumbs up which he only replies to with a small smile.

Luke Skywalker is a great fighter, a Jedi who always finds a way out, who always has a plan, who can face the strongest opponent, but the one person he can't face right now is your father. And when he does, as your boyfriend, it is not as bad as expected.

[bkglove]

Love

Ao3

established relationship with Bakugou - saying the “l” word

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“Have you?” Bakugou asks, closing his door as you both step inside.

You’d gotten weirdly quiet and withdrawn when the groups' conversation turned to past relationships and though he hadn’t pushed to know why in front of everyone now that it was just the two of you he wasn’t going to hide his curiosity.

“Depends how far back you wanna go,” you say with a chuckle but he can tell you're just avoiding the question. “I was real popular in kindergarten, dated everyone, even held hands with a few of them,” you tease, pulling him toward his bed.

“Slut.” Bakugou smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead before laying down. In the privacy of his room, he doesn’t hide the over eager show of affection.

You sit on his stomach, legs bent on either side of his hips. It’s not his favourite cuddling position but you always seem fond of it so he lets it happen.

“All yours now,” you respond, laying your head down against his chest.

He fights the smile that those words bring to his lips. Fuck yeah you were all his now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still curious if you'd dated other people before. It had never really come up but now that it had, and you’d promised to be more open about your past, he wanted all the answers.

“Seriously though?” he tries again.

You sigh, sitting up and sliding your hands to rest on his chest, taking a long pause before you reply. “I had one serious girlfriend,” you finally speak, staring at your hands, voice more sad than he would expect for you to talk about an ex. You pause again, index finger scratching against his shirt. You look at him, soothing some of the jealousy building. “She was like you in a lot of ways actually, just not-” your voice cracks. A few tears slip down your cheeks. It doesn’t seem like you've noticed so Bakugou quickly wraps his arms around your back and pulls you down so your face is hidden against his chest again, doing his best to fight the jealous thoughts.

Why the fuck were you crying over an ex? Were you not over her?

He’s sure anything he says will come out accusatory, so he tries to keep his mouth shut, rubbing your back and waiting for you to speak and explain, but he can’t help but ask, “why the fuck are you crying?”

You sniffle into his shirt and quickly respond, “sorry I just-” you let out a deep breath, breaking up your words, “I just love you so much.”

He freezes at your declaration. Hands going limp where they had been rubbing circles on your back. You sit up again.

“I didn’t mean to cry.” Though it's brief, when you lift a hand to wipe your eyes the spot on his chest is left feeling cold until you put your hand back. His mind is left reeling as you continue to explain, seemingly completely unbothered by what you just announced. “The whole conversation just brought up some bad memories. She was the worst, and you're the best, and I don’t deserve you-”

That’s where his brain starts working again.

He hooks his legs against yours and in one quick motion has you flat on your back as he looks down at you. “I love you so fucking much,” he declares at your surprised expression.

You blush, eyes wide as you smile back at him. “You don’t have to say it just cause I did.”

He frowns. “You think I’d pull that shit?” I am so fucking in love with you. Don’t say shit about not deserving me. I’ll beat your ass.”

You laugh, the wateriness gone but you still look up at him, eyes shining. “Yeah? Then you better put ‘em up.” You lightly tap his chest with your fist, fond smile taking over your face as you look up at him.

He leans down. Based on the sigh you preemptively let out and the fluttering of your lashes as he swoops down, you expect a kiss but he skips your lips and instead goes in to bite your cheek.

“Katsuki!” you squeal, pushing him off with another laugh.

“Say shit like that again and it’ll be worse.” He smirks at you wiping at the barely-there imprint of his teeth, trying to get the saliva off your cheek.

“You’re so stupid.” You roll your eyes with a smile, and when you lean up to kiss him properly he eagerly meets you halfway.

Even with the declaration leaving him dizzy and elated, he’s not finished with the earlier conversation. Bakugou hadn’t missed the part where you said he reminded you of your terrible ex. He needed to know more so he never made the same dumbass mistakes that fuckwipe did to lose you.

“You gonna complain about that bitch more?” he asks, settling down next to you, legs tangled as you hold one another. This, and every variation of spooning, his preferred cuddling positions.

“You really wanna know?” you ask after a pause.

And the simple answer is yes, yes of course he wants to know what idiot would mess up so bad. But even now, he can’t just say that. So instead, he replies, “gotta know the reason someone's being added to my murder list.”

You brush back the hair from his forehead, your smile more melancholy as you look at him. It tugs at his heart.

“I love you,” you say again, making him pull you just a little closer against his chest before you take a deep breath and begin to explain. “She was blunt, honest to a fault, never hid anything back or pretended to be anything she wasn’t.”

You smile a little when you say this, staring at his nose as your fingers trace the planes of his face. Bakugou knows you like to be fiddling with something when you're nervous, and he’s happy to be that something.

You meet his eyes. “Those are the things that drew me to her, and they’re some of my favourite things about you.”

He lets out a breath, making you blink due to the proximity. His chest tightens, waiting for the but; because those are usually the things people call him out for the most. Something he’s never backed down from, refused to even think about changing, but he’s aware they’re things that made many people leave him.

You go back to staring at his nose, smile falling from your lips. “But all she had were her words.” You run your index finger across his cheekbone, up the bridge of his nose, then trace his eyebrow back to the side of his face to repeat the pattern.

Some of the tension releases, he’s the fucking worst at words. The comparisons between this person who hurt you and him ending.

“She’d tell me she loved me and then didn’t do anything except for complain,” you start sounding more annoyed rather than reminiscent, “and she was so lazy. She would tell me I was doing something wrong but never offer to help or show me how she wanted it done.”

That brought the worry back. Did he not do that? He knew he complained. And told you when you were doing shit wrong. A lot. Had you told him off for that before?

You continue before he can say anything. “And she was so mean. Especially at the end, she’d insult me over and over and then slip in an I love you like it would fix everything.”

And now Bakugou has to ask, because the one thing he’s been called his entire life aside from strong has been mean. And do you just not see that? Is he hurting you in the same way and you just haven’t noticed yet?

“Do I not?” his words cut through the brief silence, not a finished thought but enough to get the question across.

Your fingers still their repeating pattern as you look back at his eyes and smile. “The fact that your even asking that should tell you.”

And that’s nice to hear but it’s not enough. He wants to make sure he’s never gonna mess this shit up so bad that you talk with such venom and hate in your voice about him.

“How?” he asks, staring at you intently, aware of every beat of his heart against his ribcage as you think.

You slide your hand back to finally rest comfortably on the back of his head, stilling your fidgety movements, a sign you're more relaxed. “You actually help me or just take over if you don’t like the way I’m doing something,” you start, and then you giggle, “you’re the absolute worst at compliments but you do a lot of nice stuff.” And then you shuffle a little, excited to share this other thought of him. “And you listen. Like, remember that time I called you out for calling me an idiot while we were studying?” His nod is quick and curt, contrasting your excited speech. “You still mess up sometimes, but, almost immediately, you switched to start calling me Einstein instead. It’s still all mean and stuff and very you but I like it. Makes me wanna do better, not just get depressed that I’m so bad at stuff. I like that you listened.”

Bakugou remembers that fight. A particularly hard math packet that had him constantly berating you because he knew you could do it faster and better but you kept fucking up. Until finally, you snapped at him, “can you stop calling me an idiot! I can see that already! You don’t have to make me feel worse about it!” And then you'd stood and stormed out of his room before he could retort. Though it stung in the moment, it had probably been smart. It definitely would have turned into a longer fight if you hadn’t.

The space let him think. It had been the first time you’d ever complained about any of the nicknames he’d ever called you, so he knew it really bothered you. And he’d been calling you that, well, because idiot is a nickname he used for everybody, but also because he knew you could do better, and if that nickname wasn’t going to motivate you, he could come up with one that might.

Then you came back a little later with some snacks and hot chocolate. Ironically, you apologized for yelling and then sat back down like nothing happened so he could finish helping you with the packet. He never fully registered the switch but he didn’t want to make you feel like he actually thought you were stupid or incapable again, so he did it.

“She never listened.” You're smiling at him, small and bright, and you joke, “you're still the worst, but you try, and you make me happy.”

He’s stunned. Happy. He makes you happy. Somehow, that’s almost better than 'I love you'. Bakugou pulls you closer and sinks his face in your chest. “You better fuckin’ call me out if I pull any of that shit.” His words muffled against you.

You wrap your arms tighter around him. “Of course.”

No bullshit promises that you know he would never, or that you’d understand it was different if he did it. Just an acceptance that, if he messed up, you’d give him a chance to do better.

He pulls back and looks you in the eyes again. “I love you.”

You lean forward, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, then his nose, and then his lips. His eyelids fluttering and heart warming with every peck. “I love you too.”

[kosomolski-dolls]

=/

I guess, this is my first Fairyland Rant. Long post.

I've been buying from Fairyland since 2016. My first dolls were Minifees, and I have quite a collection of them by now. I never had any problems with them. Had some seamlines here and there, but nothing outrageous or super noticable. Never had problems with Resin fleshing on the hands, inside the hips, weirdly drilled tunnels, or ridiculous seamlines like some of my friends had every now and then over the years.

I was super excited when they released their merman last summer. I love mermaids, I have their seahorse already and love it, and that new tail was gorgeous, even if less posable. I don't mind that, I sometimes value aesthetics over movement, and from their pictures, he can stand, sit and kneel, and that's all I wanted.

When he was released, I ordered the body with a split (as I didn't want the head), and ordered a tan Fairyline Sirin, a blue and red tail, and the Juri23 head to go onto the boy body from the split.

I was a bit worried that the blue tail may not fit the girl that well, because the bodies are different, but on their page it said "compatible for both boy & girl" and the pictures said that as well, so I was optimistic that it would work out.

I got my package in October last year and was pretty happy with the fit on Sirin's body!

But the first disappointment came shortly after, when I realised... she cannot sit??

This is as far as it goes, and even that only worked because I supported her on her hands. And it's gaping at the back, so... well. Not too happy about that.

A friend of mine asked them about it, and they actually told them, that the doll isn't made for sitting. Then why the hell do they advertise it like it is??

Thankfully, I tried around a bit and found that if you turn the upper part of the tail around, the sitting situation improves (I was inspired by their seahorse tail, where you also turn around pieces according to what pose you want. But unlike the seahorse, it wasn't made/planned by them to work like this and only does because the rigged edge of the upper joint just snaps into the right places).

Still gaps a bit at the back, but well. (Supporting her with one arm, just because FL resin is super slippery. After suede, she sits fine)

She can kneel and stand though. Though the latter needs some balancing skills and the red tail needs suede to make it happen, because the fin just gives in otherwise...

So, not off to a great start.

Then, a few days ago, I got my body in the mail from the split host (it was bought on layaway, so it took a bit longer). I love it, I was surprised that it had a different mechanism in the hip joint (no cups, the mechanism looks similar to their smaller lines like Littlefee), and it was pretty stable. He moved easily and held his poses nicely, no suede needed.

But then today, I wanted to put him on his tail and... was utterly disappointed.

It seems to me that they prioritised the fit on the girl body, as their girls are usually more popular than the boys, but? Still? It doesn't really make sense to me? =') it was MADE for a MALE doll.

Just to give you an idea. Fit on Girl vs Fit on Boy:

As you can see, he gaps both in the front and back because he is too narrow for the opening, which is pretty obviously fitted for the girl body.

But he also slides back and forth because the bottom of his torso doesn't really meet the ground of the hip joint. Because he is too wide as well, to really fit into the hole! =/

And when I looked at their pictures of the tail again... well, on ONE picture you could actually see a bit of a gap.

So, needless to say, I'm quite bummed about this. I will try not to let this ruin my mood and the love I have for Juri23, because man, that face is so adorable. I will try to boil the tail joint and make it fit to the body. I know that some people have done similar things with the seahorse tail, but I really shouldn't have to do that on a doll this pricey.

(My Gem of Doll merman has a similar problem, though not as severely, and in his case it's kinda understandable since the tail was made for their girl body. And, again, that doll was about half the price)

If you read all of this, well, have a cookie 🍪

I'm not here for general FL bashing, btw, I'm still cranky about a recast supporter "justifying" buying them because "FL quality is shit anyway", so spare me with that. I'm very happy with all my other dolls, but this one is not something that slipped through quality control, this is just... not okay.

[twistmusings]

Second years Asking out a Chubby!MC

A continuation of this post.

CW: Very minor angst in Jamil's section. Otherwise, nothing! MC uses gender neutral pronouns.

Note: This post has Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, and Silver!

Floyd Leech

Floyd is also super attracted to them, but he tends to have a hard time parsing romantic interest, so it takes him a while to realize why he likes spending so much time with them.

He loves how 'soft' they are (his words), and definitely likes to hug them if they will let him. Otherwise, expect a lot of pinching and cooing as if Floyd is channeling his inner grandma. It really depends on the person whether or not this is welcome, but if they tell him firmly to stop he will. He just shows a lot of his affection through physical touch.

If they are waiting on Floyd to hit on them, they're probably going to be out of luck. Floyd isn't a great flirt, at least not unless they are really into vaguely threatening flirting. He's all sharp edges when it comes to the early parts of a relationship, and he tends to be a bit more abrasive than he actually means to be.

It probably takes him a long time to realize his feelings. Like, as in years. His feelings are complex and tangled and it takes him a long time to sort them out on his own even if other people can see the signs coming long before he can. In fact, they might well see it coming before he does.

"It's never a dull moment with you." They're laughing, standing with their hands on their hips as they look down at Floyd where he's floating in the fountain in the plaza. He grins, in spite of the fact that if there was someone else around at this time of night he would definitely be getting yelled at.

"I gotta make it fun for you, shrimpy. Gotta keep you on your toes."

"I don't think I could ever be bored by you, Floyd."

They say it so casually, and they're smiling at him, but to Floyd it's a little like they just punched him in the stomach. In a good way. His chest feels warm and full, and they look so cute framed by the pitch black sky twinkling with stars.

This isn't the first time it's happened-- actually it happens a lot. It had taken Floyd a long time to realize because it seemed so slow and then all at once, but maybe, in hindsight, he's kind of been in love with them for a long, long time. He keeps telling himself no because it's been too long... like a weirdly long time, right? People weren't usually friends for this long before they asked each other out.

He's always been kind of impulsive, and maybe it's because his mind is so loud and busy thinking about the fine details that he can just act right now. His body seems to move on its own, sitting up in the water and still able to reach them with the way they're leaning over to look at him. His hair and clothes are wet, clinging to his body and face, and it's definitely not how he would have thought his first kiss with them would be, but it's... fitting, in a way.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim thinks they're adorable, and being the ball of sunshine he is, he isn't shy about letting them know. He will often go out of his way to compliment their outfits or tell them he thinks they look cute. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and if he had to keep all of that energy bottled up he just might explode.

He definitely accidentally spoils them... hear him out, though! Money is no object for him, and whenever he sees something that reminds him of them, he wants to make sure they can have it too. Thankfully for the most part it's usually small trinkets.

He's not super subtle when he has a crush-- namely because he wants to spend all of his free time with them. He's also super touchy-- in general, of course, because physical touch is his love language-- and likes to hug them or just curl up against them while they do something, whether that's studying or just hanging out.

Kalim smiles up at them, wide and bright, from where he has draped himself across their lap. They return his smile with a lovely laugh and they pet through his hair. It's so nice, and Kalim leans into their touch, letting his eyes drift closed.

It feels nice to have someone that he can show his affections to unrestrained. He's someone with a lot of love to give, and they've never shied away from that the way a lot of people do. He opens his eyes again and looks at them with an unabashed look of love on his face that he hopes they notice. They're beautiful, more precious to him than any jewel or metal could be.

He turns his head, nuzzling his face into their shirt and murmuring something there where they can't quite see it. And if what he happened to mumble was "I'm in love with you", he would be just fine with that. After all, it's the truth. He's sure that they must know, anyway.

Jamil Viper

Jamil doesn't often get crushes simply because there's always a lot on his mind, so simply the fact that they stood out to him enough to leave that sort of impression is impressive in and of itself.

Jamil knows it's trouble, though. See, he's a man who's bound by his family and their duty to the Asim family so him falling in love with someone was always going to be difficult. He's always put himself second when it came to matters of the heart-- and he's gotten very good about bottling up feelings that he doesn't want to deal with until they explode. He really doesn't have any other choice.

In spite of himself and his best efforts to thwart whatever it is that he's starting to feel, he will still make an effort to be around them. He does his best to quash whatever feelings arise as they come, but he will still sometimes catch himself just stopping and staring. It's a little hard not to, honestly, he finds them deeply attractive and like a magnetic pull he can't resist that urge forever. In tandem with that, he just finds their presence deeply relaxing, and he knows that he can expect them to be a voice of reason when he needs them to be.

"Jamil."

He blinks a few times, feeling himself snap back to the present.

"Hey, Jamil."

The sound of Kalim's voice rushes over Jamil like a bucket of ice water, he can quite bite back the frown that rushes to his features as he refocuses on the task at hand-- helping Kalim to prepare for their exams. Despite his own mood souring, Kalim smiles at him brightly, eyes twinkling as he looks back at him. Jamil can already feel a headache coming on...

"Ah, Jamil, you've got a crush~" Kalim sing-songs, grinning at his friend. "We should take a break from studying so you could tell me about it!"

Ah. Any excuse to shirk work, really.

"Absolutely not, we've got enough work to review here and I want to get to bed at a reasonable time tonight."

"Awh, but Jamil!" Kalim pouts.

"No 'buts', Kalim. The last thing we need is you tanking your grade." Kalim flops dramatically forward onto the table, but looks up at him, batting his eyelashes in a way that Jamil is sure is supposed to be cute. Jamil's patience is wearing thin very quickly. "Besides, there's nothing exciting to tell even if I wanted to. Nothing is going to happen."

"Huh?" Kalim draws back, looking like he'd just been burned, eyes going wide. Jamil merely sighs in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wait, Jamil, you can't just say that nothing is going to happen! Have you even told them you like them?"

"No." Jamil deadpans, delivering a rather severe glare to Kalim. "Why would I?"

"Jamil! That's so mean! To both of you-- wouldn't you want to know if they liked you back? You're just going to give up on it? Just like that?"

Jamil's frown tightens, and he thinks, bitterly, that it wouldn't be the first time he's had to give up something he wanted. It was just a fact of his life at this point.

It isn't until after his overblot that Jamil stops to reexamine his feelings long enough to give them any consideration at all... though he knows that he's not exactly shown the best side of himself to anyone. And he still doesn't-- it's his own way of being selfish. He spent so long living for other people that now that his feelings are on full display, he has a hard time shoving them back into that box... and fortunately or unfortunately that rings true for his crush that he's been desperately trying to stifle as well. He's surprised that they still will give him the time of day, but if they are willing to deal with him despite all they've seen he will accept their attention greedily.

That being said, Jamil waits a long, long while before asking them out formally. He falls into the trap of going from thinking he simply wasn't allowed to have something he wanted so much to thinking that there's no way that they could love him for all of his spines and sharp parts. It's only once he's fully certain that they would say yes that he would take the chance... and that's assuming they don't make that leap first.

Silver

Silver is, all things considered, pretty sheltered. He has spent his life under the tutelage of Lilia, who was a war general, and with only a handful of other people who were raised around him that were even remotely close in age to him. He's never really had experience with attraction, let alone with crushes or dating or anything that goes along with that. That's not to say he wouldn't realize he has a crush, but I doubt that he would actually know what to do with it when he did figure it out.

Silver has a hard time showing his emotions on his face, so in spite of any efforts he might make, more than likely the object of his affections won't be getting any clues from him directly. People who have known him for a good long time might pick up on it, but for most others it's going to be hard to tell how he's looking from just his face.

That's not to say he won't make moves: more than likely he will ask them to spend some more time together with him one-on-one. He's pretty chivalrous when it comes to courting, having gotten most of his information on it from Lilia and from the stories passed down in Briar Valley. That being said, his ideas of what are "romantic" might not be the same as most other people's. He would really enjoy asking them to come to training with him.

He would especially enjoy if they wanted him to train them, or at least show them the basics. It's a sort of bonding for him to train alongside someone.

Silver surveys them where they stand, hand poised on their sword for attack. He hums in thought, then steps in a bit closer to them.

"You want to widen your stance and turn your body a bit more. If you're facing a real opponent, you want to give them as little access to your body as you can while keeping stable on your feet." He says, using his hands to gently guide their body by the waist. He appraises their stance again with a thoughtful expression, then smiling ever so slightly. His eyes seem to go soft as he does. "You know, if you ever wanted to, you could probably make a fine swordsman out of yourself."

Their smile lights up their face when he says it, and it makes his chest feel a little tight. He doesn't know quite how to handle the emotion, so he clears his throat a bit stiffly.

"Perhaps, if you wanted, we could make this a regular thing? I'm sure we could both learn a thing or two, and I'm sure Sebek would love to have someone join us."

[duskamethyst]

Head empty, just toji praising you by saying “that’s my girl,” 🧎‍♀️

i woke up to this message one morning and it made my coochie tingle so you know i had to write it for ya.

warnings: praising kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, squirting, soft dom toji putting you in a full nelson

once toji set his mind on something, best believe he will do it. 

“oh, you’re not gonna cum for me just once tonight, princess.”

but you kind of wish he was kidding because now your body is already spent from being the subject of his notions. 

yet, he hasn't even put his cock in. 

it feels like hours of having toji’s head between your thighs with your legs folded to your chest and draped over his broad shoulders. you don’t even know how many times he has made you cum from his tongue and fingers alone. he just kept on coaxing orgasms after orgasms as if addicted to the way you keen and writhe underneath him.

by the time he finally draws away from you, a smug smile is already seated on his face. he is evidently complacent as he lets you see the mess you made on a part of his face; a sheen of spit and your own arousal smeared on his lips and chin.

“you can give me more, right?” he whispers softly as he strokes the swollen bud.

“t-too much already–” that’s what you say and think, but your overstimulated body is quick to respond to his touch. you never knew you could be so greedy.

“are you sure?” his voice entwines with mischief, eyes fleeting over to your trembling legs. “you want me to leave you like this? is that what you want?”

you can only hope he can read the desperation in your eyes, but you know better. toji loves putting you on edge just so he can make you say the things he wants to hear.

“i hope your fingers can make you cum again.” he taunts, knowing well that touching yourself won’t make you feel satisfied the way only he can.

“no– p-please put it in–” you sob, face flushing with shame as much as arousal. 

a playful smirk tugs on his lips as he pretends to ponder over your request for a moment. “hmm, why should i?” 

“‘cause– i need you– need to feel full– need you s-so much–” 

“mm, my needy girl.” he chuckles and pulls away from you to sit by your side, his back leaning against the headboard, legs stretched while his cock fully erected and leaking precum. “why don’t you show me how much you need me?”

you crawl towards him with remnant energy you’ve gathered and prop yourself on your knees with each leg on his sides. you wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock to align with your entrance before lowering your hips to impale yourself on his cock. 

“fuuuck– take it all, baby.” toji hisses from behind you as he watches his dick seamlessly disappear into your wet cunt.

you moan in pleasure from the stretch, finally feeling full from simply being filled to the brim. his own body is flushed with primal heat when you clamp down on him, much more when you start to grind your hips salaciously. 

“that’s it. good girl.” his voice drops an octave as he speaks while his half lidded eyes are glued on the rippling flesh of your ass as you hump on his fat cock desperately like a bitch in heat. 

toji can feel you clench around him harder from the praise, forcing profanities to elicit from his throat. “fuck. you like that, don’t you? you like being my good girl?”

“y-yes–! ‘m your good girl–” you whimper, the sound pitchy and pathetic than you meant it to be.

“god. as much as i love seeing your cute ass,” he leans closer to maneuver both of his inner elbows under and over your inner knees before pulling you back to fall down on top of his burly chest. “i’d be fucking stupid not to fuck you back.” 

now you are forced into a compromising position and you can’t move. your pussy is exposed to cold air as your legs are forced to be wide open and folded up to your chest while his larger frame effortlessly carries your weight.

“this is much better, isn’t it?” his husky voice sweeps into your ear, sending tingling sensations down to your core. “gonna make you feel every inch of my fat cock.”

without wasting even a second, toji bucks his hips and plunges his dick deep inside you. a wanton moan passes your lips, the deep stroke of his thick cock making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl.

“then i’m gonna breed this tight pussy.” he growls in your ear, holding you close to his body as he fucks into you relentlessly. 

“f-feels good–!” your breathing turns into quick puffs of air, tongue lolling out from your gaping mouth. 

his thrusts are deep and unforgiving. you can feel the tip pounding against your cervix as he ravages your poor little cunt like a feral beast. 

“mhm. that’s what– hah– you get for being such a good girl.” he says between grunts and his own senses are going mad from having his dick squeezed between your walls.

having you so sensitive makes it quicker for the pressure to tighten in your lower stomach, though it feels more intense than what you’re familiar with and the way it’s threatening to snap is far more alarming than it usually was. 

“yeah, shit– just like that.” he pumps into you harder, evoking lewd squelches from your sopping cunt.

“t-toji– ‘m gonna–” you whine and babble, your clouded mind makes it so hard to form any complete and coherent sentences anymore. 

but toji understands you because he can feel it inside too; your walls sucking and trying to keep him within while you clearly seem like you can’t take it anymore. 

“i got you, baby. cum for me.” warmth oozes from his voice and it’s weirdly affectionate despite how his hips are still sporadically rutting into you. 

as soon as his finger reaches to rub your pulsing clit, your whole body tenses and your vision blurs white. you cry into the night as a wash of pleasure crashes throughout your being; it has a rush you’ve never tasted before but it leaves you utterly gratified. 

his cock twitches at the sight of you squirting in front of him, the translucent liquid spurting all over the place as your pussy flutters around him.

“god, that’s it. that’s my girl.” he purrs into your ear, praising you and attempts to calm you down while he helps you ride out your high. 

the next minutes pass as a blur as you let your body be used until his hips stutter and you hear him growl as he cums deep inside you.

toji finally lets go of your legs and you wince when the ache on your lower body becomes prominent. he rolls you next to him, pressing your warm and sweaty bodies together and he grazes your skin with his thumb gently.  

“you did so well for me.” he mumbles from behind you, his deep voice resounds in your ear as you relax against his bare chest before allowing darkness to consume you. 

“my good girl.”

[itsdanii]

Rejecting you and regretting it

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: slight cursing, rude behavior (resolved), do message me if I forgot any.

ft. sakusa kiyoomi, tsukishima kei

Sakusa Kiyoomi

you're not oblivious to the fact that kiyoomi is a very conscious person

that's one of the things you loved about him

he was hygienic and he always made sure that his health was his utmost priority

but one downside is that kiyoomi had the tendency to push people away because of his straightforwardness

you were used to it and in fact, you were one of those people he tolerated

but everyone has their bad days

and unfortunately for you, today was kiyoomi's and since you were always attached to him by the hip, he unintentionally snapped at you

what's worse is that he snapped at you the moment you confessed to him

"Omi!" you shouted happily as you entered the gymnasium, giving Komori a small wave before making your way to where Kiyoomi was sitting.

He looked at you with a frown. He wasn't wearing a mask since they were training awhile ago and only took a quick break. "Y/n, what are you doing here?"

You sat beside him making Kiyoomi grimace and slightly move away. You frowned at him, completely displeased at the action. "I just wanted to give you a visit. Plus, I have something to tell you."

You started to fiddle with your fingers nervously. You practiced your confession several times already but doing it seemed harder than you thought.

"What is it? Talk, I'm not in the right mood to socialize right now."

Out of panic, you quickly blurted out a rather loud, "I like you!" You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and stared at him wide eyed.

The other players looked at you with sympathy, knowing what's about to happen. Out of all days, you really had to confess today, when Kiyoomi was in a pissy mood after several fangirls pushed themselves against him this morning, not minding his personal space.

Kiyoomi stared at you with a serious expression before standing up. "I don't like you. Leave."

"But Omi.."

"You're irritating and you always bother me when it is clear that I don't want your company." He turned around and left you on the bench, your head casted down in humiliation.

You whispered a small sorry before running out of the gym with tears falling from your eyes.

For the next few days, you did your very best to stay away from Kiyoomi. You changed your route to school knowing that your usual route meant that you have to pass by his house. Even if you got scolded several times for being late, you did not stop.

You sat near the door so you can easily exit the room after class. You even stopped eating with Komori and Kiyoomi during breaks and lunch. Even your usual routine of visiting the gym during practices was stopped.

At first, Kiyoomi didn't mind. He knew that you'd come back in a few days just like you always did. You like him after all, right?

But when a few days turned into weeks, He started getting bothered. Why weren't you pestering him like always? Why did you stop visiting him? You said you like him, right?

It was the second week that Kiyoomi took action. He woke up extra early to wait for you infront of your house, aiming to confront you about your behavior.

When you went out, your eyes widened slightly upon seeing Kiyoomi waiting for you outside. He was wearing his face mask while staring at you intently, letting you know that he purposely waited for you.

You looked down and was about to walk pass him when you felt him tugging on your wrist. Your gaze snapped to his hand, not believing that he was indeed touching your skin.

"Sakusa?"

His eye twitched at the weirdness of you not calling him like usual. Sighing, he stepped a little closer to you, hand still holding your wrist to ensure that you won't run away from him.

"You're ignoring me," he said while eyeing you. "Why?"

You took your hand from him and furrowed your brows. "I'm just doing you a favor. I don't want to be a bother anymore. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I-"

"It's fine, Sakusa. You don't have to force yourself to apologize just because you feel bad or obliged to."

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'm not apologizing because I feel bad."

"Then what? You're apologizing just to make fun of me? I know I said I like you but that doesn't mean that you have the right to-"

"You don't get it!"

At this point, you were both raising your voices. Some passersby were looking at you two weirdly, some even running as to not get caught up in the fight.

"Get what, Sakusa? Why don't you tell me so I can understand?!"

"I like you!" Kiyoomi exclaimed. "I... Fuck. I like you, okay? I wasn't in the mood when you confessed and I rejected you without thinking. I messed up. The moment I saw you walk out, I knew I fucked up real bad and I-"

"Om-"

"And I thought that you'd come back the next day to bother me again like usual. I wanted to apologize but my pride-"

You sighed as he continued to ramble. With fast movements, you stood on your tiptoes and encircled your arms around his neck to pull him down to you, kissing him over his mask.

When you let go, Kiyoomi was silent. His eyes were wide and you thought that you went over board. Panic made its way to your face as you try to find the words to explain.

"Sorry, I didn't me-"

This time, he was the one to cut you off. Kiyoomi took off his mask and bent down to kiss you on your lips. One of his arms snaked around your waist to support you while the other settled on your nape, angling you to him.

"Be my s/o."

Tsukishima Kei

Everyone in Karasuno knew how much you like Tsukishima

In fact, you remind him everyday

You often give him fresh strawberries from the market and even bake him strawberry cake

Sometimes, you would put little sticky notes on his belongings and write some encouraging words like "you can do it", "I believe in you" or "take it easy!"

On his birthday, you even gave him a hoodie with a dino design (which he secretly loved)

There are times that you knew Tsukishima gets irritated when you visit and even snaps at you but you didn't mind. You liked him and a small snap will not discourage you

But what you didn't know was that it would only take one conversation to completely shatter your heart

"-And they're back," Sugawara said as he saw you enter the gym, a bubbly smile present on your face as usual.

"Kei!" You skipped your way towards Tsukishima and handed him his water bottle which you voluntarily refilled with hot water.

He only gave you a 'tsk' and took the water bottle. Adjusting his glasses, he stared at you from head to toe as if analyzing you, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.

"What are you looking at? Have you finally come to realize that you like me back?" you cheekily asked, poking his bicep.

"No. I was just wondering how someone could look so ugly."

Despite what he said, you forced yourself to giggle, covering your upset feeling with an eye roll. "Oh shut up, Kei. You don't have to hide it, you know? Don't worry, I'm not going to reject you."

You winked at him causing Tsukishima to blush even more.

The rest of the boys snickered and laughed at his reaction which made Tsukishima more embarrassed than he already is.

"Just confess to the girl already, Tsukishima. Can't you see she's trying hard to win you?" Daichi said with a small chuckle while patting Tsukishima's back.

Tsukishima just huffed and pushed his glasses up. "What's there to like? They're nothing but an eyesore anyway."

"What?" you asked in disbelief.

Having a playful banter with Tsukishima was normal in your routine but this was the first time he called you such an offensive term. Does he really think of you that way?

"Oh come on, stop acting dumb. I don't even get why there are guys running after you. I mean, there's really nothing much to look at, right?"

Everyone grew quiet at what he said, clearly not expecting Tsukishima to be at such level of rudeness.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat as your insecurity skyrocketed. "I try hard every single day to look presentable to you. I-"

You paused for a moment to laugh pathetically at yourself. "I exert a lot of effort to make you notice me. I cook for you, I give you gifts. Heck, I even stay after class to help clean the gym so that the task would be easier for you and I'm not even asking for anything in return."

Tsukishima glared at you sharply that you immediately felt extremely smaller than him. "I never asked you to do those things for me."

"Can't you at least show me that you care?" You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. "Because I'm slowly getting tired of this push and pull game."

"Don't you get it? I don't like you. Why don't you stop pushing yourself to me and start getting a life, hm?"

"Tsukishima, that's enough!" you heard Daichi yell at him.

"Y/n?" Sugawara was immediately beside you, his hand rubbing circles on your back in attempt to calm you down.

"No-" You lifted your face up to meet Tsukishima's eyes. "I think he's right. I should stop being a nuisance and focus on myself."

"I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry," you said before giving Tsukishima a bow and leaving the gym with everyone's eyes following your figure until the door shut.

Everyone could only look at Tsukishima as he cursed under his breath.

"Shit."

The moment you left the gym, you headed straight to the comfort room to let your tears out. You stared at yourself on the mirror as tears cascaded down your cheeks.

"You're beautiful," you reassured yourself while pointing at your own reflection. "What he said doesn't make you any less. Know your worth."

You wiped your tears and splashed your face with cold water before getting out and heading to class without sparing Tsukishima any glance.

You ignored Tsukishima, stopped visiting the gym and focused on yourself. You even made made friends with some of your classmates that you didn't bother getting associated with last time because you were too focused on capturing the attention of Tsukishima.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain male was eyeing you as you interact with other people. He blamed himself for pushing you away. He didn't talk to you, thinking that you only wanted space for a couple days before bothering him again.

He knew that what he said was out of line and he regret everything he did. He even asked Yamaguchi and the rest of the team for advice but all of them responded with the same answer - apologize and tell you how he feels.

Tsukishima gripped the pen tightly as he watched you laughing at something your classmate said. The said classmate was too close to you and it was obvious that he was trying to flirt with you.

"Tsukki?" Yamaguchi called out. He followed Tsukishima's gaze and sighed. "Why don't you go and talk to them?"

"Tsk. Why would I do that? Can't you see they're enjoying his company?" Tsukishima bitterly said.

"You'll end up losing them if you don't do something about it now. Who knows, they might already be lo-" Yamaguchi stopped as Tsukishima instantly stood up and made his way to where you are.

Taking your wrist, he pulled you towards him, heading out of the classroom.

"Tsukishima, what the hell?!" You tried to resist but his grip on your wrist only tightened.

You gasped as he suddenly stopped, trapping you against a wall with his arms beside your head.

"I'm sorry." Tsukishima closed his eyes, balling his fist as he bowed his head. "I said hurtful words to you and no amount of apology will take those away but I want you to know that I regret every single one of it."

You bit your lower lip as you felt yourself tearing up once again. "Do you really think that I'm ugly? I was hurt, Kei. It's just.."

"I'm sorry." His hand made its way to your cheek, cupping your face while he wiped your tears with his thumb. "You're not ugly."

You shook your head and averted your gaze from him, a sob escaping your lips as you felt yourself falling for him deeper. "Don't. Just stop. I'll accept your apology but please just leave me be. I won't be able to stop my feelings for you if you keep leading me on."

"But I don't want you to stop."

"What?"

"I've fallen for you." He tipped your chin up with his hand making you look at him and you were surprised to see the vulnerability in his features. "Please look at me again, y/n. Keep loving me because I swear that I'll do things different this time. Give me a chance."

You can't help but encircle your arms around him, burrying your face on the side of his neck as you nodded repeatedly. "One chance, Kei."

Tsukishima hugged you tightly, lips pressing on the side of your head. "One chance." He leaned away from you and held your face with his hand, eyes boring to yours admiringly.

"You're beautiful."

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[lily-drake]

De-Aged

Jason: holy shit- she's so tiny!

Dick: *agitated* Jason, focus, what do we do??

Jason: *coos at the baby Marinette* I haven't seen her this small in forever.

Dick: we need- Jason! Focus! what do we do???

Jason: *shrugs* wait it out? I don't know.

Inspired by @bambicambi

Annoyance coursed through Marinette’s veins as she saw the new Akuma of the day.  Of course it happened when her family came to visit.  Looking up to the sky and praying for strength she turned her back to the chaos, something she would soon regret.  Her brothers were asking her what the heck was going on, and as she opened her mouth a baby pink ray of light hit her, and Marinette poofed and in her place sat 4-year-old Marinette Wayne.

Jason and Dick stared at the small child on the ground in shock and after the moments were over Jason eagerly picked her up and spun her around.

“Holy sh*!  She’s so tiny!”

Jason called out as he held the small giggling girl to his chest.  Dick, was rightfully frustrated and walking in small circles and quickly said,

“Jason, focus, what do we do?”

Upon hearing Jason making cooing noises, he swiftly turned to look at Jason.

“I haven’t seen her this small in forever!”

He exclaimed, nuzzling his nose against the small Marinette.

“We need-Jason!  Focus!  What do we do?”

Jason shrugged as he held Marinette against his hip.  She giggled and tugged at his jacket.

“Wait it out?  I don’t know.”

Dick opened her mouth, but stopped when Marinette began to speak.

“Jay-Jay!  Ride!  Ride!”

Jason’s grin grew and gently set her down while holding her hand.  He squared down and carefully released her hand.  He could not express the pure amount of joy he felt when she climbed onto his back and wrapped her tiny hands around his neck.

“Jason, have you just forgotten the weirdly dressed flying child that not only turned Marinette, but all of Paris into kids?!”

He…had forgotten.  But can you blame him?  Marinette was so tiny when she was a kid, and he hadn’t seen her like this in forever.

“Look, contact Zatanna while I keep her safe and distracted.”

Dick sighed in relief replying,

“Alri-wait a minute.”

Jason was already running with a giddily screaming Marinette.

“No fair, I want to cuddle my baby sister too!”

He sighed in frustration, and no he was not pouting.  Quickly pulling out his communicator he dialed Zatanna.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so I’m in Paris visiting some family, and this flying kid in really weird clothes is going around de-aging people.  Could you come see what’s going on please?”

“Pardon, but what?”

“Yea, it sho-“

Dick quickly ran through the streets dodging beams that were now directed towards him.  Why did stuff like this always happen when they traveled?

A few moments later a portal opened and he had never been more relieved to see Zatanna in his life.  Zatanna looked around and looked at the villain.  As she studied it and was about to jump in, a neon butterfly mask appeared over the child’s face and she realized what this was.

“I can’t do anything, sorry Dick.”

“What?!  Why?!”

“This is ancient magic, probably the most ancient magic in the universe.  There should be others…, see,”

She said pointing to a cat-like figure in the distance.  Dick stared in confusion, what was happening?

While Dick was trying to figure everything out Jason was having the time of his life with Tiny Mari.  He was especially thankful that when she was blasted that her clothes were transformed into a white t-shirt and overalls with lions stitched throughout them.  He had taken so many pictures of them.  We’re people running around everywhere scared, yes, yes they were.  But that didn’t stop him from enjoying as much time as he could with his tiny sister like he used to.

“Jay-Jay!  There’s a fairy in my pocket!”

“How is there a fairy in the Pixie’s pocket?”

He asked jokingly while swinging the hands back and forth!

“Lookin lookie!  It’s a Ladybug fairy!  She’s so pwetty.”

Marinette held Tikki in both of her hands and jumped up and down trying to get him to look.  Jason chuckled and looked down at the toy.  It was cute, he had never seen something like it before.  Then it blinked, and flew out of Marinette’s hand, and oh gosh, IT CAN TALK?!

“Marinette, you need to help Chat Noir defeat the akuma?”

“Akuma matata!”

Marinette called out with a giggle.  Jason would have laughed, if it weren’t for the flying bug thing talking to his sister, who was currently 4, telling her to help someone defeat the crazed villain.

“Woah!  Are you insane?!  Look at her?!  How do you expect her to fight?!”

The thing looked conflicted before sighing and saying,

“Well, do you want to fight it?  You just need to wear the earrings, I can run you through what you need to do!”

“No!”

Marinette screamed.

“I want to be like you and daddy!  It’s my turn to help people!”

“Marinette, you're too young.”

Tears began to well up in the small child’s eyes.

“I-it’s no fair!  You al-always say that!  I want to help!”

She finished stamping her foot definitely with a sharp glare.  Jason sighed in exhaustion and turned to the floating creature.  He mumbles under his breath,

“Can’t believe I’m letting this happen.”

He knew by the way Marinette was gripping at her ears and the definence in her stance.  He could easily take them by force, but he didn’t want to hurt her or make her angry and feel betrayed.

“Can you assure above all else that she will be completely and utterly safe.  I will join as well in my hero suit to make absolutely sure.”

“Yes, she has a partner as well who will watch out for her.”

He sighed in relief at that, but there was a new and very heavy weight on his chest that wouldn’t leave until this event was over.  He listened to the fairy tell Marinette what she needed to do and almost smiled at the determined face she was making.  Her cheeks were so chubby and-no, focus!  He pulled out an extra domino mask he always carried with him and zipped up his leather jacket.  When he turned around there was a burst of pink light and where Tiny Mari once stood stood his sister in the cutest outfit he had ever seen!  It was similar to his old Robin outfit, but closer to Tim’s as she thankfully felt that there needed to be pants.  She had small wings on her back with a black cape with red bottom edges that shielded them from view.  And in her hands was a tiny yo-yo.  Before anything else could happen, he quickly pulled out his phone and took pictures.  He wanted to show this to Bruce and brag, sue him.

Soon after that they both left to the rooftops.  He was honestly surprised by how easily she maneuvered around the roofs and how easily her yo-yo grappled and released from things.  They soon landed next to a Cat Woman knock-off who turned to look at them in surprise and exhaustion.  When Marinette saw him she quickly turned to him and tugged on his sleeve.  Jason crouched down and Mini-bug leaned close to his ear and whispered,

“Does Selie have a son?”

Jason snickered and glanced up at the kid.  He seemed to have heard them if the ears twitching and confused look said anything.

“No Pix.  He was just inspired.”

“Oh, okie-dokie!”

“So, I’m assuming you two know each other and she was hit out of suit?”

“Yep, basically.”

“Right.  Well, we just need to break the wand, but I can’t get close.”

“Little Lady, cast your charm.”

Mini-bug puffed up her cheeks making her old —and most adorable— thinking face before yelling out while throwing the yo-yo into the air,

“Lucky Charm!”

“A red and black spotted rubber bullet dropped into Mini's awaiting palms.  Jason promptly took the bullet and loaded it into his gun, it was the perfect fit.  The hideously dressed child flew over to them and flourished her wand creating the opening Jason needed.  With one quick shot the bullet flew through the air and hit the wand causing it to snap.  A black and purple butterfly began to fly out and mini quickly caught it.  She quickly released it bouncing on her heels in pure joy as a wide smile grew onto her face.

“Told ya I coul’ do it!”

“Yes you did, good job Pix.”

Chat Noir, who they hadn’t noticed disappeared, came back with the bullet and handed it to the small girl.  She threw the bullet into the air jumping up as well and yelled out,

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Millions of Ladybugs flew through the air repairing damages and Turing people back to normal ending with Ladybug herself.  Ladybug looked around confusedly and saw Chat on her right and Red Hood on her left.  Memories of the past hour flashed through her mind and she promptly hid her face in her hands and a deep blush bloomed across her face.

“This is a disaster, a complete disaster.”

“I don’t know Bug, was it?”

Jason asked with a crap eating grin.

“Yes.”

Came her mumbled response.  Jason laughed and ruffled her hair, Marinette was too miserable to care.

“We should go make sure golden boy isn’t panicking too much, don’t ya think?”

Marinette sighed tiredly and nodded, I guess so.

“Sorry Chat, I promise I’ll explain later.  Bug out.”

And as quickly as she could she swung away with Red Hood laughing and not too far behind.

“B is going to hate that he missed this.”

He called through the air causing a loud groan to escape her lips.

“Don’t show him!”

“Too late Pix, already sent them all to the group chat.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you to Babybug.”

Marinette groaned again and Jason laughed all the way to where they found Dick and Zatanna talking in an alleyway.

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @aurcad123

[besotted-eros]

BabyDaddy!Eren on Father's Day

NSFW under cut(MDNI)//breeding, dirty talk, dom!eren, mommy/daddy usage, alcohol, breastfeeding, unprotected sex, pregnancy.

Eren, who has made your life so much harder than it needs to be. A hook up gone wrong, a letter to the condom company, and an adorable little bundle of joy that you're head over heels in love with... Even with the fact he has the same eyes as his annoying father.

Eren, who knows that he gave you the night of your life. Whose smirk is lethal every time you see him, who undresses you with his eyes the moment his gaze lands on you. His words are warm as you meet with him for drop offs or picks up. He focuses on the baby for the most part, cooing lovingly as he shoulders the bag. But as you make your way back to your car, you can feel how he stares, it touches your curves like a physical thing. It makes you think of how his hands felt.

Eren, who is an absolutely amazing father. Adores his son, goes above and beyond to make his disorganized bachelor pad of an apartment into something appropriate for a child. Who had came over to help you paint your nursery as well, spent the whole time poking at you. Stepping too close, purring compliments in ways that make your thighs clench. Reached over to tug at the strong of your thong when your sweats ride too, saying he liked this pair better than what he's seen you in. You rebuke him, rolling your eyes. He never stops flirting.

Eren's eyes opening wide, filling with tears that he'll forever deny when his son toddles up to his door on Father's Day. The baby's wearing a tiny little varsity jacket, just like the one Eren had in university. He's holding a mug, with a tiny blue handprint stamped on the front. Eren sweeps him up, kissing his face as he praises his little man. You grin from your spot by the car, leaning against it as you watch him carefully extract the mug and vow to never use another cup. His jade gaze moves to yours. He's grateful, deeply grateful. "Happy Father's Day." You call out. It's only his second, and you wonder if he'll cry every time.

Eren, stepping from his door. This is the first time you've seen insecurity on his expression, sheepishness making him seem younger. "Do you want to come in?" You say something about it being his day, but he shrugs, smoothing his son's hair back. "You're the one who made me a father."

Eren, making you breakfast despite your complaints as your baby demolishes cantelope as though it owes him money. The vulnerability in his face is covered again by his cocky grin, asking you if you remember the last time he made you breakfast.

Eren driving like an actual human being. Calm, cool. First to the park, where he takes picture after picture of sun covered smiles, reapplies sunscreen on the dot. You notice the way other moms check him out, admiring his muscular arms, how his chestnut hair falls across his face when he leans down to pick up his son, or pushes him on the swing.

Eren, who only has eyes for you.

Eren tucking your son into bed, exhausted after a long day of playing and a big dinner. He pours you a glass of wine as you sit on his sofa, nursing his own. You haven't sat like this in a long time. Haven't spoken like this to him in even longer. He's wearing a simple black t shirt, the neck of it wide to show off his pretty collar bones, the sleeves hugging his biceps. It's no wonder you let him pick you up at that bar.

The conversation turning to kids, Eren asking you if you would consider another. The question feels loaded, and his green gaze never leaves your face. You're sitting closer together than you remember.

Eren smells like sandalwood. He's on top of you now, pinning your body to the sofa. All you had said was that you would want another. You liked being pregnant weirdly, and you love being a mommy. His eyes had slowly widened, and by the time you said mommy your fate was sealed.

Eren's demanding hands peeling off your jeans while his mouth claims yours. "Can't fucking do this anymore, teased me for too long. And now this? You like being a mommy?" His tone is almost incredulous, but it's thick with lust. He palms you through your satin panties, fingers pinching and rubbing your lips. He's stroking a fire in you. And you've been dry kindling, waiting to burn for so long.

Eren yanking your shirt neck down hard enough to rip it. The bra is pulled down as well, your hardened nippled released to the air. Your areola is large, and his eyes trace it almost lovingly. And now covered by his mouth. "They're so big now, fucking watched them grow. Wanted to do this the moment I knew." He grows against your skin as he suckles. He's drinking from you, drawing the sweet milk from your breast. You're pulling and tugging at his hair, gasping for relief as he invades your every sense.

Eren's cock. It's almost bigger than you remembered. It fits his figure so well, long and veiny, but girthy enough to make your toes twitch in anticipation. It bursts from his black jeans as he yanks them down, heavy balls swinging. You're on your knees before you even realise, tongue lapping at the firm shaft, at the soft skin of his sack. He encourages you, fist twisting your hair. Tells you to kiss his balls nice and sweet because he's gonna breed you with them.

Eren on the ground behind you, pushing your face into the soft cushions of the couch. Coffee table has been haphazardly pushed away to give him more space as he ceaselessly pounds you. His broad, muscular chest is pressed to your back, his mouth hot on your shoulder and neck. Biting, nipping, degrading and lifting all in one. His hands grip your hips like they were made to be his hand holds. He keeps pulling you back, making your ass bounce. Telling you you have the perfect child bearing hips, that's why he first eyed you. And then when you got pregnant he fisted his cock every night, the sight of you filling his naughty dreams. But this time he's gonna do it right. This time he's gonna fuck you through it.

Eren, asking you how badly you want to be a mommy again. Pulling you onto the ground fully, throwing you onto your back so he can move your legs to your chest, fold your body into a mating press. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes heavy lidded, body jerking with each time you slide along his cock. Your pussy walls are plush, wet, clinging to him. You're begging for it. Your body knows. So you call him daddy, pleading for him. Begging for daddy to breed your needy pussy once more.

Eren's cum, filling you up in a way that's utterly sinful. Hot and sticky, coating your inside and dripping out onto the hardwood. He lays against you for a moment, chest heaving with exertion.

"Maybe next year I'll get two mugs."

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[rocorambles]

Murder of Crows

Pairing: Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Yachi x Reader aka a Karasuno first-year gangbang (Takes place when they’re all third years.)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Rape/Non-con, Degradation 

Summary: You should have trusted your gut when you first felt the wandering eyes and lingering stares, but now it’s too late and you’ll learn first hand what it feels like to be utterly defeated by a murder of crows.

Requested by Anon

You’re not quite sure how exactly you’ve found yourself here in a gym full of sweaty athletes, hauling a basket of ice cold water bottles to the sidelines with your best friend, Yachi, but here you are. With a loud thud, both of you drop the heavy container down and grab the pile of towels just in time for the boys who are quickly approaching you, splattering droplets of sweat everywhere and you crinkle your nose and playfully pretend to gag as they draw near. Tsukishima rolls his eyes at your antics, but he nods his head in thanks as he grabs a clean towel from you. You patiently wait as some other team members relieve you of the pile of fabric in your hands before Yachi and you sit on the bench as Yamaguchi and Coach Ukai order the team to gather around as they discuss practice drills. 

You smile fondly at the way Yamaguchi confidently holds himself as he stands next to Coach Ukai with shoulders squared and a serious, but kind face directed at the rest of the team. To think that the shy Yamaguchi you had met when Yachi had first started helping out the team during your first year would grow to be the respectable captain that he is now. But he’s not the only one who’s gone through drastic changes and you look over the rest of the third-years intently listening to him. Hell, you even turn to briefly look at Yachi and yourself. When you had become friends with Yachi at the beginning of high school you barely knew what volleyball was, let alone thought of managing the team and yet here you both are as third-years, decked out in the black Karasuno warm-up track suit.

Yachi was your first and best friend by far of the group, but you can’t deny that over the last two years you’ve also gotten closer to the rest of the boys in the same year as you. Well, you suppose they technically aren’t boys anymore. A faint smile plays on your lips as you reminisce on all the memories you’ve shared together between study sessions that somehow became just tutoring sessions as you all tried to force information into Hinata and Kageyama’s heads and exhausted nights where all of you slumped in front of Coach Ukai’s store eating meat buns and chatting away until he kicked all of you out and made you go home. But that smile turns downwards when you think about some of the more recent and less positive changes in your friends.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. You know the six of you are exceptionally close, almost weirdly close, but you had just chalked it up to the fact that you all see each other for hours every day between classes, volleyball, and after school and weekend study sessions and hangouts. Yet that doesn’t stop the slight unease from growing inside of you as you observe the increasingly strange behaviors your friends exhibit and it’s only become more...physical...now that you’re all in your third year and officially all adults. 

You had visibly winced when Yachi had first introduced you to Hinata and the orange haired ball of energy had decided to scream a greeting at you, but you couldn’t keep the wide grin from spreading across your face as you got swept up in his enthusiasm. Every moment with him felt like riding an exhilarating roller coaster and maybe that’s why you barely noticed how strange it was that he came knocking on your door almost every single day asking you to come hang out or jog with him, how strange it was that he texted you as soon as you got up, blowing up your phone all day until you went to sleep. You were so caught up in the wild ride that Hinata Shouyou was that you never had the chance to get off and think about how you had even gotten on this ride in the first place and when was the last time you had been able to take a break from it. You were still flipping upside down in loops as you entered your third year and the ride just became more intense as he began wrapping his wiry arms around you at practice, nonchalantly talking to the rest of the team with your body firmly pulled against him and his chin resting on your shoulder. You had shooed him off of you the first few times, but he had turned his huge puppy eyes on you and no one else on the team seemed to care, so you just went along with it. 

Kageyama took a little more time to warm up to you, but you didn’t take it personally knowing how reserved he was. However, over time and after a particularly long study session you had personally sat with him through, he had left a carton of his favorite milk on your desk and you had beamed at the innocent object. He started hovering around you more after that. The two of you never really spoke much, but you enjoyed the peaceful and comfortable quiet that surrounded both of you and yet, despite his silence, you noticed that he spoke loudly through his actions. You were beyond shocked the first time you had sat down to lunch with him, ready to dig into your food, when he had frowned at your bento, taken it from you, and removed some of your rice while adding more meat and vegetables without saying a single word to you. Mouth still open in disbelief, you had pierced him with a questioning look only to receive a muttered reply about making sure you were eating a balanced diet. Your heart had fluttered at the endearing reasoning, but it had become a bit strange later on when he would hand feed you, practically shoving a stalk of broccoli or a piece of chicken in your mouth even at times that you said you were too full to eat anymore. But that just meant Kageyama cared for you, right? You know the boy’s terrible when it comes to social interactions, so you shrug it off.

Yamaguchi has arguably gone through the most dramatic personality change since you had first met him and you’re so proud of the confident leader he’s become. But even in your second year with him, you had sworn that sometimes there was a hint of something...darker, hungry...something lurking underneath his shy facade that made you shiver in fear. But every time you tried to take a closer look it disappeared only to be replaced with a soft gaze. And now that he’s fully grown into himself, he’s become more physical with everyone, casually slinging his arms around everyone’s shoulders and backs in a comforting, friendly manner as he rallies up team morale. But you can almost swear that when he slings an arm around you in thanks or in greeting, his arm gets progressively lower to the point that you almost recoil from him when you feel his hand brush against the hem of your skirt. But he’s always quick to move away from you and you wonder if all of it is just your imagination or an accident on his part. 

You're briefly distracted from your thoughts as loud shouting fills the gym and your eyes are drawn to Tsukishima’s figure as it leaps through the air and blocks a spiked ball. Honestly, you’re surprised you’re even friends with him, let alone close friends. He had been nice enough to not insult you like he did with the rest of the boys, but on the other hand, he rarely spoke even a word to you or acknowledged your presence. But as you hung out with the group more, you noticed the tall shadow that seemed to always walk beside you between classes, to the cafeteria, and back home. And he’d only grown bolder in your last year, wrapping a large hand around your wrist and forcefully dragging you with him when the both of you were running late for volleyball practice. You were so caught up in keeping up with his long strides and complaining loudly about his tight grip on you that you didn’t notice the terrifying glares he shot at any male who even looked at you as the two of you walked through the school halls.  

And finally, Yachi, your sweet and adorable best friend. The two of you had hit it off right away as soon as you met each other and it was like you were connected at the hip ever since. You can’t even keep track of the amount of sleepovers, weekend trips, day trips, girl talks, and everything else you’ve done together. But you had found it a little weird when she had slept over for the first time after both of you had officially turned eighteen and insisted on sleeping in the same futon as you. Assuming she was just feeling a bit lonely and nostalgic, you let her slip under the covers with you and drifted off to sleep, unaware of the hand wandering across your resting figure. After that night, she kept on finding her way into your futon and it soon just became the norm for the both of you and you grew accustomed to falling asleep with her body heat next to yours, your dreams suddenly full of feather light touches. 

Yes, they’ve all definitely changed since you first met them all, but they’re still your closest friends despite all their new quirks, and perhaps it’s just the natural transition of entering adulthood that’s affected them. People change. You aren’t kids anymore. Of course they’d be different now. But that conviction struggles to stick in your mind when you’re stuck in the gym alone with all of them after practice every day. Yamaguchi’s always quick to dismiss the first and second years the minute practice is done and he politely assures the coaches that you all would be fine cleaning up the equipment and locking the gym up as he bids them good night. It becomes normal for the six of you to take down the nets and round up all the volleyballs and yet your hackles rise as you swear you can feel multiple pairs of eyes intensely staring at you as you bend over to pick up stray balls. You swear you feel a hand drag and linger across your ass as someone helps you lower the net. You swear it almost feels like they want to devour you as they linger a moment too long in the doorway of the equipment room, not immediately letting you pass when you try to exit. But you have no proof and the moments happen so fast that you wonder if you’re just becoming more paranoid for no reason. 

You really should have trusted your gut. 

There’s an excited buzz in the air as the team hops off of the bus and intermingles with the Tokyo teams. It’s the first training camp of the year and everyone’s busy catching up with old friends and meeting new people. You struggle to lift a bag of equipment and almost drop it when a hand reaches out and catches it before it hits the ground. Stunned by the surprising interaction, you quickly whip around and smile when you see Inuoka beaming down at you. The two of you hug and he walks with you to the dorm rooms, helping you carry everything as both of you catch up, unaware of the many pairs of eyes darkly staring at your backs.

Karasuno has always been close to Nekoma and that hasn’t changed over the years, so when the teams aren’t practicing, you happily joke around with the Nekoma third-years, laughing at Lev’s stupid shenanigans and conversing with Inuoka and Shibayama. A part of you feels guilty for not spending more time with your own team, but it’s so rare that you get an ample amount of time with your Nekoma friends and you brush the feeling off. Surely your friends would understand. But the narrowed eyes, clenched fists, and tight jaws across the room are hardly understanding as they lock in on the sight of Lev excitedly grabbing your hands as he asks you something, the sight of Inuoka resting his hand on your shoulder as he talks, the sight of Shibayama’s eyes lingering a bit too long on your face when he thinks you aren’t looking.

The week flies by and all too soon it’s the last night of camp and you horse around with the Nekoma boys, loudly shouting and fooling around well past curfew. But you know the coaches are turning a blind eye to any mischief tonight, letting you all do as you want as a thank you for all your hard work and dedication. Inuoka and Shibayama are cheering you on as you have Lev in a headlock, but all of a sudden your phone vibrates and you reluctantly release the lanky giant before opening up the unread text.

From Yachi: Come hang out with the rest of the third-years and me! It’s probably going to be our last training camp all together so we want to make some new memories together. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart when you read her message and you immediately rise and say goodbye to the rowdy boys before rushing off to your own team. The Karasuno third-year boys had managed to secure their own dorm room and you excitedly open the door only to yelp as a hand grabs you by the collar of your shirt and you vaguely register the sound of the door slamming shut as you’re shoved to the ground and adjusted until you’re on all fours. You try to shove off the hands that are tearing off your clothes, but tired of your flailing, Tsukishima wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes and squeezes until you stop you’re struggling, choosing instead to wheeze and claw at the arm restricting your air flow and only when you’re completely naked with Kageyama pressed tightly behind you, holding your waist in a bruising grip, does he let go.

You gasp for breath as you stare up at the blonde with teary eyes. “Why are you guys doing this?” You pray that it’s all a terrible joke, just a prank gone out of hand, but you flinch as Tsukishima sneers down at you. 

“What? Upset that we aren’t your Nekoma boyfriends instead? Tell me, if we hadn’t asked you to come here, would you be letting them fuck you all night long? Of course you would, you fucking slut. You have four cocks and a pussy literally just waiting for you to say the word and they’d be all yours, but no, you just had to go off and be a little whore, letting those fucking cats put their paws all over you instead. We don’t share. You’re ours, do you understand?” 

Tsukishima smirks at the fear in your eyes. “Well, even if you your stupid little bimbo brain can’t understand that now, it’ll be engrained in your mind and body after we’re all through with you tonight. Open your mouth.” You try to twist your face away as he lowers his pants, letting his cock spring out and hit your face, but his hand threateningly hovers over your throat once more and you obediently take him into your mouth. He’s so long and you begin to gag with only half of him inside of you. With an irritated sigh, he painfully grabs you by the roots of your hair and forcefully shoves the rest of his length down your throat and you try to scream around the object stretching your jaw, but you’re muffled as he starts pistoning his hips in and out of your wet cavern and tears stream down your face as your throat burns from the abuse. You’re so distracted by the struggle of trying to breathe that you don’t even notice the movement behind you until you feel something hard nudging past your entrance and shame washes over you at Kageyama’s words. 

“She’s already so wet.” You clench your eyes shut as Tsukishima laughs and only ruts into your mouth faster. “God, you’re pretending to cry and hate it, but you love this, don’t you? You love being fucked from both ends. You’re such a fucking cock slut.” He emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust and your eyes roll back as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time that Kageyama bottoms out into you. You’re so full and you swear your jaw might unhinge itself from trying to accommodate Tsukishima’s cock and yet you can’t help the way your hips start rocking back to meet Kageyama’s thrusts as he takes his time sliding in and out of you at a languid pace, relishing the feeling of your tight walls clenching and sliding across every inch of his shaft. 

You shake your head as much as you can with Tsukishima’s fingers still tightly interwoven in your locks, trying to deny the degrading accusations Tsukishima relentlessly spits at you, but you can’t help the moan that escapes you as Tsukishima curses and pulls out, hurriedly giving himself a few more strokes before painting your face with thick white streaks. Your cunt unconsciously clenches from the humiliation of being so lewdly marked and Kageyama hisses before increasing his pace and you collapse to your elbows as Kageyama desperately chases his end while Tsukishima crouches in front of you, reaching around to play with your clit. And despite the horribleness of the entire situation, you can’t help but fall apart and your quivering walls are all it takes for Kageyama to release deep inside of you.

Kageyama has enough foresight to at least gently lower you down to the floor after he pulls out of you and you lay there on the hard surface, wishing it would just swallow you whole and take you anywhere from here. But of course that doesn’t happen and you weakly sob when you hear Yamaguchi’s soft, but commanding voice ordering you to kneel in front of him. You raise yourself up on shaky arms and move to stand up, but Tsukishima’s hand keeps you down. “Crawl like the bitch that you are.” You tremble from emotional and physical exhaustion as you make your way towards the captain, placing one hand and foot in front of the other, and you cringe at the feeling of Kageyama’s cum beginning to trickle down your inner thigh, but soon enough you’re in between his thighs as he sits on a chair above you. 

His cock is already out and even though he’s not as big as Tsukishima, your mouth still goes dry at the thought of trying to take him in your still aching mouth. You begin to lick him, taking in just his tip and swirling your tongue around him before delicately licking down his entire length, anything to buy you some time before you need to use your mouth again, but you push off of him with a scream, your hands tightly clutching his thighs as Hinata slides underneath your spread legs and licks a long stripe across your pussy. Yamaguchi is patient with you, enjoying the way drool begins to leak out the sides of your mouth as you moan from Hinata’s enthusiastic licks, but his cock twitches at a high pitched whine that exits your throat and he places a hand on your head and firmly pushes you back down to his leaking cock. 

You’re sloppy, unable to fully control your mouth as you moan and drool while Hinata’s tongue pushes inside of you, tasting every inch of you. But the sight of you slobbering all over his cock and the debauched mess of it all only makes it feel better for Yamaguchi and he can’t help the way his hips buck up into you when he finally finishes and he hungrily drinks in the sight of your throat swallowing every drop of him. Your thighs begin to clench and your body is taut as you can feel another climax quickly approaching and when Yamaguchi casually twists and pulls your nipples with his fingers, your back sharply arches as you open your mouth in a silent scream. You stay in that shape for a few seconds until the pleasure begins to ebb away and you try to move away, but Hinata’s arms wrap around you, holding you in place, and you wail as he earnestly continues lapping and sucking at every inch of your drenched pussy that he can reach. Your upper body collapses into Yamaguchi’s lap as he tenderly strokes your hair and it feels like ages before Hinata finally reliquinches his grip on you and moves out from under you. 

You shakily whimper as Yamaguchi soothingly whispers into your ear about what a good slut you are, how beautiful you look when you’re falling apart because of them, but you have no energy to push yourself away from him and you lay there, with your face in between his thighs and your arms splayed over his legs. You can feel your eyelids fluttering shut and just when you think you’ll at least be able to escape into the shelter of your own unconsciousness, strong hands pull you off of Yamaguchi and lay you flat on your back. It’s not comfortable, but you’re at least glad to finally relieve your knees which you’re sure will be black and blue tomorrow. But any small consolation you felt instantly dissipates when you see Hinata hovering over you and you don’t even have a second to understand what’s happening before he shoves his entire length into you in one swift motion. 

After being stretched out by Kageyama and thoroughly lubricated with the sticky mix of your own juices and the setter’s cum, Hinata easily slides in and there’s no pain as he fills you, but this new position means there’s nowhere for you to hide your face from the predatory eyes staring down at you and the humiliation is so much worse as you’re fully aware of Hinata intently staring at your slutty fucked out expression as he continuously rams in and out of you. Your eyes are so far back in your head that it’s hard to clearly see and maybe that’s why you don’t notice the growing shadow covering your face until it’s too late and your nose and mouth are covered by a musky warm scent. Sex. It smells like sex. You rapidly blink the pleasure from your eyes as you try to focus your vision, but you wish you hadn’t when the image of Yachi’s small breasts bouncing above you as she rides your face sears itself into your brain. You try to close your mouth as tightly as you can, refusing to service the woman above you, but it’s so hard to breathe with her pussy covering the bottom half of your face and accidental moans are forced from you as Hinata continues railing into you, which only cause Yachi to grind and moan more as the vibrations from your mouth stimulate her slick heat. 

Later you’ll try and convince yourself that it was just survival instinct, just you trying to do what you needed to do to breathe, to have everything be over and that you aren’t eagerly drinking Yachi’s essence that never seems to stop flowing on your face as your lips and tongue explore every inch of her more intimately than you’d ever dreamed of doing. You’ll deny you felt any pleasure despite the wanton moans you can’t stop releasing and the powerful orgasm that wracks through your body as Hinata’s cum mixes with the mess between your legs and as Yachi’s hips stutter as she smears her release all over your face. But for now you lay there, in a pool of your own liquids and the fluids of the five people towering over your limp and used body, drowning in the dangerously intoxicating pleasure they’ve submerged you in. 

A tiny screeching voice inside of your head tells you to get up, get away and despite the dazed state you’re in, your hands attempt to push you up and it feels like you’re stuck in molasses as you excruciatingly slowly push yourself up into a sitting position and it takes everything left inside of you to feebly move your legs as you attempt to rise. But just when you almost have your feet underneath you, something is pressed against your chest and you’re pushed back down and you whimper at the heavy embarrassing weight of the foot squarely planted in the middle of your chest, stepping on you, keeping you down. Tsukishima’s never looked taller as he leers down at you.

“That’s cute. Did you really think we’d let you just get up and walk away from us? We’re nowhere near done with you. We’re not stopping until we literally fuck you to sleep and make sure that your body is so worn out that we know you’ll be safe and sound in your own futon tonight and not sneaking off to whore yourself out to anyone else.” 

And if you’ve learned anything from managing this team, it’s that they’re relentless in the pursuit of their goals and for the first time since you’ve managed them, you feel a pang of pity for the teams they’ve crushed and destroyed, wondering if this is how all their opponents feel as the five of them pounce on you with the intent of thoroughly dominating and conquering you.   

[spaceorphan18]

Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  

And then his alarm goes off.  

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  

“Ah.”  

Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  

“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  

Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  

“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  

He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  

Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  

Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  

Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  

Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  

She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”  

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  

“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  

And yet he did.  

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

[is-nini]

Dragon! King! Zhongli x servant! Bunny! Reader.

A/n: i tried my best to make it as gender neutral as possible.. i hope it's good.

Requested by: anon

You are a half bunny half human breed. You have a fluffy (f/c) bunny ear and a little bunny tail behind you. Whenever you and your master, Zhongli stands between eachother, people will always be shocked because of how difference in size the both of you are. Zhongli's hand always engulfed your waist that's how big he is compared to you.

When people heard about their dragon king having a half bunny half human breed as a servant, they tend to think that you are going to die soon. And to be honest that's what you thought too considering you never really meet the dragon king.. but now, you and your half dragon half king master is so SO close even the people around the castle was surprised.

King Zhongli was never close to anyone. Not even close with the neighbouring King and queen. So it is always a wonder.. how can you get close to this.. scary king? Well you don't know either but you are happy to be a special half human half bunny servant for him.

Everywhere your master go you always follow. That's his number one rule for you. Follow everywhere he go. The second rule he made is to always follow his order. Which is normal but.. sometimes his.. order is interesting.

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

"Ah- y/n can you use this outfit for me please".

You blink once and then twice, looking at your master with a confused look on your face. Even though this is a beautiful outfit you feel like you don't deserve it so you were about to reject it when suddenly your master said.

"Ahem.. i believe you haven't forgotten about your rules?".

You pout and whine.. yes. You whine. To your master. Yes your master who is the god of war.

"But master!!"

"Ahem..".

"..... Yes master".

You sigh and takes the outfit from his hand.

The outfit goes from very rich brown colour on the top to black on the bottom, the sleeves is a little bit puffy and reached your elbows. Outfit has A gold embroidery is littered around the dress, making a elegant swirl pattern. All you know is this outfit is fit for a royalty.

A royalty.

Yes a royalty, and you are King Zhongli's servant.. why did he asked you to wear this? Something fit for a royalty?.

"I believe i order you to change?".

Your master asked, you looked at him suspiciously but keep walking towards the walk in wardrobe with a suspicious glance to your master. Making him giggle. Yes he giggle for you. It is weird indeed.

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

Your master has been very weird.. he is so Weird that it becomes a normal thing for you.

Like yesterday, he asked you a very peculiar question. About is it possible for a king to marry a servant? You're answer is yes because you think that as long as the king has no queen and still making the rules around the kingdom then anything can happen.

He seems pleased by your answer and keep staring at you while you make a cup of tea for him. Making you looked back at him weirdly.

"Do you need anything master?".

You asked, wondering why did he keep staring at you. He shake his head and place his head on his hand that he propt on top of the dark wood table.

"Nothing, I'm just watching you,".

Hearing that respond you deadpanned and shook your head, you have a weird master.. he do questionable things but you still love him anyw- wait.. love? You instantly blushed and fanned your face. How can you say you love him?! No no no that's not right. Your bunny ear twitched, Zhongli keeps looking at you and noticed your ear twitched, making him curious but enjoying your red face he decided to not say anything and just enjoy the view.

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

You never really notice your feelings but when you did, You are a blushing mess whenever you're with your master. You know it's wrong but you cannot really stopped loving your master.. your kind, handsome, funny, hilarious, cool, smart, wise- ahem! Ups too far y/n stay. Stay cool.

And you did, you take a deep breath and took a glance on your master and then proceed to think about how amazing your boss is, not realizing that you have stopped cleaning the bookshelf.

A cough caught your attention and You turn and looked at your master who is staring back at you. Your body went tense instantly.

"Are you okay? You're spacing out..".

He said, you shake your head as fast as you could, your face exploding with red colour. Your master sigh, standing up, walking towards you, making you back up. You felt the wall bumping to your back you stare up at your master who is about an inch away from your face.

"I asked you. Is something wrong?".

His voice is stern yet soft at the same time, you shake your head as fast as you could but your head suddenly stopped when his hand cups your cheek. Before you could react he suddenly kissed your lips softly for a couple of second as you hold your breath.

Y/n.exe has stopped working.

He pulled away and see your shocked reaction, giggling as he gave you some space.

When your mind has started working again you panicked, started to wail your hand around, scared for you life.

You master just kissed you, your boss just kissed you.

.. and you like it.

A smooth giggle comes from his lips as he pulled your hips towards his and peck your head.

He inches his mouth closer to your ear, kissing your eara dn whispering something using his deep voice.

"You'll be the royalty from now on. You will rule this kingdom with me, no rejection".

Is all he said and then leaving you alone in his study room to announce the new ruler of the kingdom.

Y-you feel like sofia, becoming a royalty overnight?! You shake your head quickly and was about to tun towards the door when suddenly a bunch of maid's appear, some you know and some you're not familiar with, all of them looking at you wide eyes.

"How?!"

"What in the world happened?!"

"How did you become a royalty?!".

Questions was thrown at you but nothing get passed your head. This all is so sudden.. and it is scary but thinking about being togather with Zhongli... Your boss who is now your boyfriend apparently doesn't sounds bad.

From that day forward everything is a mess for you. Of course you changed from servant to a royalty, who would be shocked? Nothing is easy for you, now you are being served, Zhongli called you "dear" or "loved" or even "baby bunny". you, who are not used to this always blushing whenever you are in close proximity to him.

There's alot of things you are not prepared for near the future and you know it, yet you couldn't help but feel comfort and happiness, reminded that you'll be with your boyfriend in every step of the way.. who would thought that you.. a simple servant of zhongli would become his soulmate? The world will never know, one thing for sure is that you and him are in love.

A/n: i hope this is not bad... I'm sorry if it dies seems rushed, any feedback or complaints is always welcome!.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 14: Little Us

[prev] [next]

[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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“I’ll cook dinner,” Kiyoomi offers and you nod. The three of you have come back to your house after your trip in the theme park. You go straight to your room and changed. You wash Kia and when you return to the kitchen, Kiyoomi has changed into house clothes and finished cooking.

You three eat, and it isn’t as silent as usual. Kia babbles about how cool the wizard train was and how she wants to return to the theme park. You glimpse at Kiyoomi and a look of disgust is prominent on his face. You giggle at his cuteness and the two of them stare at you weirdly.

“It’s nothing,” you reason and continue to eat. “How’d you know Kia was lost?”

“She called me with the phone I gave her. I think she forgot about how to call you,” he explains to you. Kia puts her spoon and gives him a look of disagreement.

“I didn’t. I press number 1 to call mama,” Kia says and you look at her in disbelief. Why did she not call you if she knows how to? “I just miss Kyo.”

You want to scold her right then and there, but Sakusa beats you to it. “Next time you shouldn’t worry us like that. Call whoever was with you, okay? What if I didn’t come to you? You would have never seen mama or me again.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, mama and Kyo,” Kia apologizes. Kiyoomi smiles to her and gently and you plant a kiss on her cheek.

After dinner, you wash the dishes while Kia and Kiyoomi watch the Transformers movie. He isn’t even sure if she’s allowed to watch it but she found a way to make him say yes. They sit comfortably on the couch, Kia under Kiyoomi’s arm. Her eyes are fixated at the screen. ‘She loves cars, huh?’

You finish doing the dishes and call your daughter to sleep. She kisses Sakusa’s forehead then runs to your room. "Can I talk you after I put Kia to sleep? If you don’t mind.” He stares at you with his usual cold face before nodding at you. ‘He looks really tired. Did he cry, too?’

You shake the thoughts off your head and tuck Kia to bed. You close your eyes, praying to all the gods and wishing to all the stars that she’ll go to sleep. She must be tired, right? You did spend the whole day at the theme park and she wasn’t able to talk a nap. She’ll sleep well tonight.

You open your eyes after a few minutes, and find Kia wide awake. She is raising the plushie Kiyoomi bought for her at the theme park.

“Go to sleep, baby,” you tell her, caressing the top of her head.

“Can I play with Kyo?” She asks and your eyes widen in shock. You are about to say no but she gets out of bed and runs out of the room. You groan in frustration before walking after her. You stop on the hallway as you hear Kiyoomi and Kia whisper rather loudly to each other.

“I wanna play with you but mama wants me to sleep already.”

“What are we gonna do about it?”

“We will pretend to sleep so mama will go to sleep, then we can play.”

Kiyoomi chuckles at her suggestion. For her age, she sure has a lot of tricks on her sleeves. He sees you glaring at Kia. Your hands are on your hips, a disappointed look plastered on your face. “Kia!” You call out and she snuggles on Sakusa’s chest shutting her eyes tightly. You glance at Kiyoomi and he is also pretending to be asleep. You stop yourself from smiling then sit beside them, waiting for them to crack.

“I know you’re awake,” you tell them.

“I’m asleep,” Kiyoomi says.

“Me too,” Kia follows and you laugh. Kiyoomi stifles a giggle at Kia’s response.

You shake your head and then lean on the couch. “I guess I’m sleeping too.”

You actually fall asleep. Kiyoomi and Kia finish the movie they were watching before you called her to sleep. He leans your head shoulder while Kia leans on his chest. Weirdly enough, he feels comfortable having the two of you close to him.

The movie ends and Kiyoomi has convinced Kia to go to sleep. He takes a look at you and you’re sleeping soundly. “(Y/n)...” He calls, gently shaking your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes flutter open, confused. “Transfer in your room, your back will ache if you sleep on the couch.”

You nod sleepily, following what he says. You stand on your feet but lose balance due to sleepiness. Luckily, Kiyoomi catches you before you land on the ground. He sighs in relief before helping you walk to your shared room with Kia. He puts you on the bed beside Kia. He is about to leave the room but Kia pulls his hand. “You’re still awake?”

“Wanna sleep with you.” She looks up to him with puppy eyes and he gives in. He picks Kia up but puts her back down when he sees your figure.

“Your mama will be worried if she doesn’t wake up beside you tomorrow,” he tells Kia, caressing the top of her head. Kia pouts and almost cries.

The image of you crying because of losing Kia at the theme park flashes in his mind again. He knows how much you value Kia and couldn’t bare to live without her. He doesn’t want to see you hurt. He hates seeing you cry.

“Sleep beside us then,” she suggests and Kiyoomi smiles gently. He nods at her and she makes space for him. Kia moves closer to your side as Kiyoomi awkwardly lies beside her. His feet are hanging off the bed so turns his body to the side slightly bending his legs, making it touch yours. “Use my blankie. It’s cold.” Kia says and he does so. The blanket only covers his upper body but he uses it for since Kia asked him to.

Kia buries her face on his chest, his breathing pattern a comforting sound to her. He massages her temples, soothing her. Not long after, Kia is finally asleep, for real this time. His hand transfers to you, removing strands of hair that is covering your face. He places his hand on your cheek, softly caressing it.

Kiyoomi didn’t understand why you chose Kia even before she was born. He hated her for that reason. But now he understands why you love her so much. He understand why you left.

Her cute eyes when she looks up. Her waddles when she walks. Her sweet voice when she speaks. Her laugh when he does something out of normal. Her smile when she hugs him.

She’s undeniably adorable.

She’s weirdly smart.

She’s impossible not to love.

‘Kia is so much like you.’

How can he not love Kia when she resembles the person he loves the most?

He attempts to leave the bed but your hand lands on his . He stares at your half visible figure confusingly, but doesn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with yours. He thinks you’re just doing random actions because of your sleep. Due to the the dim lighting, he isn’t able to see the smile on your face. You’re wide awake.

“You and Kia are so much alike,” you speak with a smirk, not able to keep your squealing emotions and thoughts inside you. Sakusa internally face palms, tightening his hold on your hand in embarrassment.

You move your lips closer to your intertwined hands and plant a soft kiss on the back of his. He lets go of you and pinches your cheek. “Go to sleep.”

“Stay here, Omi,” you say. He places his hand on the small of your back, your legs tangled with each other’s. The familiar nickname putting a smile on his face. ‘I love Kia so much because she’s a little you.’

“Okay, I’ll stay.” He plants a kiss on Kia’s forehead then to yours before drifting to sleep. ’I love Kia because she’s our little us.’

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You prepare for the impromptu outing with the MSBY boys while Kia and Kiyoomi washes. As you are measuring Kia’s formula, Kiyoomi’s phone on the counter dings rapidly. ‘It must be important.’ You think as the multiple notifications seem urgent. You lift his phone up to give it to him but the screen lights up so you see the screen.

“Mama! I’m ready!” Kia runs out the room, making you put Kiyoomi’s phone back on the counter. You act as if you’ve just finished preparing the formula, seeing Kiyoomi follow her.

“Let’s go?” You ask Kia. She nods excitedly and runs to the front door. You take the baby bag go after, your pace quicker than normal. Noticing your uneasiness, Kiyoomi eyes you suspiciously.

“What’s up with her?” He mutters, taking his phone from the counter. He sees the notifications and just ignores it. “Annoying.”

Kiyoomi goes to the car where you and Kia wait for him. He starts the engine, Kia cheering in excitement. On the other hand, you’re restless. You don’t know when and how to talk to him. Why does he say he loves you and wants you back if he has a significant other? You know Kiyoomi. He wouldn’t just sleep with anyone.

You feel his hand on your thigh, but you immediately brush it off. He glances at you in confusion before focusing his sight back on the road. He wants to ask what’s wrong and why you are suddenly angry, but not when Kia is around. He’s aware that you acting like this would end up in a fight.

He doesn’t want you to fight in front of Kia.

You arrive in front of a small traditional Japanese house and see Atsumu’s red car. Bokuto’s car is also parked at the rocky empty lot. Kiyoomi parks beside the blonde’s car. You get out of the car and is immediately greeted by Hinata and Bokuto. You wave at them. Kiyoomi takes Kia out of the back seat and sets her on the ground.

“Koko! Yoyo!” Kia runs to them, her arms open wide, ready for a hug. Bokuto lifts her up then starts tossing her to the sky as if she’s some volleyball. Kia is enjoying it but Kiyoomi isn’t.

“She might fall. Stop that,” Sakusa scolds and Bokuto pouts, putting Kia down. She runs to Hinata and do the hand shake they made before giving him a hug.

“Kia, you’re here!” A familiar deep voice speaks as the door of the house slides open. Her eyes lighten up in excitement.

“Mu-chan!” Kia waddles her way to Atsumu, jumping on him to give him a hug. Atsumu picks up her up, spinning her around. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too!” Atsumu bops her nose, skillfully carrying her with one arm. He sees you and Kiyoomi so he invites you in. Kita arrives and greets the six of you. Right then and there, Kia feels shy. She squirms her way out of Atsumu’s hold and hides behind you. Kia takes a peek at Kita and he smiles at her. She hides even more.

“The farm is this way. We have gloves and tools prepared for you,” Kita tells them, showing the way to the small vegetable farm.

Kia’s eyes widen in awe as she sees the vast strawberry field. Her heart pounds faster in excitement. She runs to one row and point at it. “Do you wanna pick it?” Kita squats down to level with her face and she shyly nods. He helps her pick the strawberries and she’s getting as red as the fruit.

Seeing Kia is preoccupied by strawberry picking and her potential new boyfriend, he takes this as an opportunity to talk to you. “Can you watch over Kia for a while? We’re just gonna talk about something,” he requests to Atsumu through his mask. The blonde nods as he noticed the tension between the two of you since you arrived.

“Let’s talk,” he whispers to you, placing his hands on your shoulder. You shrug them off but his hold just tightens.

“Later,” you reply, obviously still mad.

“We have to talk now. I don’t want Kia to see us silently arguing with each other the whole day,” he reasons. You sigh and give in. The two of you head back to his car.

And you just sit there. You’re scrolling through your phone, leaning on the window. He stares out of the window, looking for a way to start a conversation that would not end up with the two of you shouting. His mask have already been discarded, he’s that ready for a fight. An idea enters his mind but he cringes at the thought. But it’s that or screaming.

You feel Kiyoomi poke your cheek so you turn to face him in irritation. To your surprise, he’s acting weird. He’s pouting, his cheeks puffed, eyes furrowed, eyes glaring at you softly, and arms crossed. “What are you doing?”

Do you not understand what he’s doing? He cries inside his mind. Embarrassment is taking over his body, but the damage has already done, so he decides to stick to his plan. “Do you not love me anymore?” You laugh out loud, tears appearing on the corners of your eyes, making him shy even more, but he doesn’t drop his act.  You secretly start recording him, knowing you’ll need it in the future.

“Are you supposed to be Kia?” You ask him but he continues glaring at you.

“Hmpf,” he sticks his nose out to the air and you can’t help but forget about your anger. How can you be mad at him if he’s acting all cute? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You cup his cheeks like how you would cup Kia’s when she’s upset, bringing his face closer to yours.

You know what he wants so you’re gonna give it to him: a good fight.

“Who’s Furuta Saki?”

While the two of you are busy fixing your problems in the car, the 4 boys and Kia are having the time of their lives in the farm. Bokuto’s and Hinata’s baskets are empty since they eat whatever they harvest as soon as they pick it. Kia’s and Atsumu’s basket is full of fruits that Kia likes.

“What’s that?” Kia points to a shrub. Kita takes a look at it.

“That’s pepper,” he answers. She runs to it and picks a red and big one. Kia hands it to Atsumu. He shakes his hand but he hears a familiar clicking of tongue.

“You shouldn’t reject food from a cute girl like that,” Osamu speaks, walking towards the group. He just arrived since he had to open his store.

“Myaa-sam!” Bokuto greets him with a wave. The black haired twin tips his chin as greeting.

“If you’re so concerned about rejecting a cute girl’s offer, why don’t you eat it?” Atsumu barks back to his twin. Kia’s eyes quiver, her hand with the pepper still raised.

“But I picked this for Mu-chan.” Atsumu tries to look away because he knows she’s staring at him with those puppy eyes. And he’s weak for those. As if his eyes have a brain on their own, he’s already looking straight at her eyes. His hand is reaching out for the pepper Kia is offering. “I’m gonna die.”

Osamu takes his phone out, recording the whole thing. Atsumu bravely takes a bite, smiling at Kia the whole time. As he continues to chew the pepper, his face gets hotter and redder. He starts sweating from the spice. He can’t handle eating spicy food, but doesn’t want to disappoint Kia.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he pants from the spice, his tongue out. He’s already crying. Osamu laughs loudly, catching Hinata’s and Bokuto’s attentions. They run to the setter, wondering why he’s panting and crying.

“Is this some sort of challenge?” Bokuto says in excitement, Kia handing him a piece of pepper. He eats all of it in one bite, surprising Osamu and Kita. Hinata is also given one, which he eats in three bites.

“I don’t like this challenge,” Bokuto pouts.

“Is this supposed to taste like something else?” Hinata wonders out loud.

“How are you not affected?” Atsumu screams in frustration, his tongue still hanging out of his mouth.

“You’re just a brat,” Osamu snaps. Kita tells Kia to give Atsumu a tomato, so she takes a tomato from the basket and give it to the blonde twin. He thanks her and eats the fruit. Kia gets some more and gives it to Hinata and Bokuto who have gone to pick some fruits again.

Kita checks the watch on his wrist. “I think it’s time to eat lunch. How about her parents?”

“They’re eating each other out already in his car,” Osamu says nonchalantly. Atsumu whips his head to look at his twin, hoping that he’s joking.

He isn’t.

One second, Sakusa is acting cute. The next second, you two are shouting at each other. The third second your’e making out. Who would’ve thought that talking included Sakusa’s tongue exploring your mouth?

Sakusa’s hand is on the small of your back, while yours is on the back of his neck, both on those positions to help you pull each other closer. Kiyoomi pulls away from your lips, attaching his lips to your neck, his hand that is on your back also traveling down. Your hands move up to his hair, letting out a sigh in pleasure as you feel his tongue on your skin.

Before you two can sin, his phone starts ringing.

Kiyoomi groans, pulling away from you. He answers the call, only to be teased by his team’s setter. “It’s time to eat actual food.”

You fix yourselves, not talking. It all happened in a flash that you don’t remember what you two were fighting about. Did you even actually talk? All you can remember is the taste of his mouth.

“Let’s go?” Sakusa breaks the ice, the strings of his mask already hooped to the back of his ears. He hasn’t fully put it on so your eyes land his lips. He notices and leans in, giving you a kiss. He ruffles your hair before stepping out of the car. As he closes the door, you groan before following him out.

You and Kiyoomi step into the dining area and hear Kia crying. Kiyoomi gets nervous, afraid that something might have happened to his daughter. He sits next to her, asking what’s wrong.

“Koko said I can’t have more than one boyfriend!” Kia cries.

“What?” Kiyoomi deadpans, disappointingly staring at Kia.

“I want Mu-chan, Myaa-chan, and Ki-chan to be my boyfriends!” She reasons. You and the rest of the boys laugh at her cuteness. Kiyoomi, on the other hand, is stuck on comforting his little girl who wants three boyfriends.

“It’s not good to have three boyfriends,” Kiyoomi scolds her and she starts crying even harder. Kiyoomi sighs and just decides to go along her wishes so she can stop crying and start eating. “Fine. You can have three boyfriends.”

The group starts eating after resolving Kia’s problem. Kita’s grandmother arrives so you greet her. “She’s such a cute child. I wonder when my Shinsuke is getting married and also have a child of his own.”

“I think he’ll be married soon,” Osamu jokes. Kita kicks his leg under the table. “I’m just kidding.”

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

After your trip to Kita’s farm, you go home. You do your usual routines, then meet at the dining table to eat the dinner you prepared.

You are avoiding Kiyoomi and he can tell. You’re not so subtle about it. The whole afternoon you were making jams, and you made sure you were preoccupied all the time. Slice the strawberries? You’ll do it. Mush the peaches? You’re on it. Wash the mangoes? Say no more.

He just doesn’t understand why you’re doing it. Why are you distancing yourself from him? Didn’t you already talk?

“I wanna sleep already,” Kia yawns after eating. You lift her up her chair and Kiyoomi offers to do the dishes. You ignore him and go to your room to put Kia to bed. She sleeps immediately, probably tired from the never-ending activities from today.

But you can’t. You can’t sleep because of that one certain activity with Sakusa in the car. You can still feel the weight of his hand on your back and it’s driving you crazy. And as if the world is playing with you, you receive a message from him.

You fall right into his trap.

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

Facts:

Legends say that Atsumu still feels his tongue burning from the pepper

Kia has asked a very important question to Atsumu and Osamu

The jam Bokuto and Hinata made has been shipped to Tokyo

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea bonkyandloki kimi09 ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi mi​ kellesvt amarillyis

[barnesbabee]

Like A Pornstar || C.S

Summary: Among all of the sex professionals, San takes a liking in you, the most unexperienced person in the room.

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Words: Several I’d say

Genre: Smut

⚠ spanking, choking, sex worker!au, pornstar!au, dirty talking, teasing ⚠

A/N: Idc, San gives off pornstar vibes. Enjoy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

Seonghwa ver. || Hongjoong ver. || Jongho ver.

  You watched as the man laid on the bed and guided the woman on top of him. His fingers were buried in the woman's waist and his eyes watched her movements carefully, beads of sweat falling from his forehead and small moans escaping his agape mouth.

    "Cut!"

    You had been so immersed in the action that the yell almost startled you.

  The way his pleasured expression immediately fell off his face and was replaced with an almost bored one was astonishing to you. Once the cameras stopped rolling the actor's face and body stance immediately changed into a more relaxed stance, as if he hadn’t just been inside a woman, fucking her relentlessly. He wrapped his body in a rope after the woman had gotten off of him and headed towards the director.

  "San that was perfect, we're going to try some shots with her on all fours and then we wrap it up with a facial."

  San brushed his sweaty hair back with his right hand whilst the other held the robe's furry belt, and he nodded at the instructions. The director gave the actor a pat in the back.

 "Take a break, we'll keep rolling in 30."

  San left the set and headed to the little room reserved for him.

  It was truly entertaining to watch that man work. It was like he turned into a whole different person when the cameras turned on, and the way he shut out the world around him when the lights flashed upon his skin was admirable. He was so embedded in the act that the entire crew surrounding him seemed to disappear... Mesmerizing.

  "Assistant!"

 "That would be me... " You whispered to yourself.

  You plopped off your chair and made your way over to the director who had called you. You didn't know men could be bitches until you met this old, horrendous man. You had to admit, you felt a little uncomfortable by the environment and people around you in the beginning, but then again, money doesn't grow on trees, and college doesn't pay for itself.

  "Y/N," The director started, once you'd made your way close to him "San requested some water and he just told me there is no water in his dressing room. Could you be any more useless!?"

 Had that been months ago, tears would've brimmed in your eyes and your voice would've become shaky, but at this point you were used to it.

 "My bad, I'll get that taken care of..."

 You walked away without another word and headed to the small warehouse under the building, which was the only place on earth where they stored dildos next to water bottles. You sighed and grabbed one of the packs which contained nine bottles of water, since you wanted to make sure you didn’t have to go through all of this trouble once more.

 You then made your way to the small room where the casted male pornstars would stay in, to rest and fix themselves. You knocked on the door softly, and when you heard a small ‘come in’ coming from the inside, you turned the handle and entered the room.

  “Here’s your water Mr. Choi.” You told him and put the waters down on the coffee table behind him.

 The male was sitting in his vanity, scrolling on his phone. He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. The smile on his face could trick anyone... He looked like a little kid that had just gotten a lollipop whenever he smiled. His eyes turned into two crescents and his dimples enticed anyone who laid eyes on them. Even you, who had seen every part of this man (literally) almost got fooled by those innocent eyes.

 “Miss Y/N I think anyone who has seen my dick up close can call me on a first-name basis.” He said and giggled.

 How did he do it? How could something like that just slip out of his lips while giggling? You chuckled at his silliness and shrugged.

 “I guess you’re right, but I haven’t seen it up close, I’ve seen it from afar.” You defended, victoriously crossing your arms in front of your chest.

 San licked his lips and stood up. He settled his phone on top of the vanity and stepped closer to you.

  “Well, would you like to?”

 You eyed him weirdly and pushed him away, with your index finger placed on his chest.

 “Don’t joke like that!” You whined, wearing a soft frown on your face.

 The smiley face that made anyone comfortable under its presence faded quickly, and was replaced with a serious look. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly much heavier, and you could hear his heavy breathing. His eyes, although almost fully hidden by his dark fringe, had a new feeling to them, and intimidating, almost scary one.

   He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, so close that his hard-on began poking at you.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “But... Me? San, you have sex with professionals for a living surely they’re better than me...” 

 You weren’t insecure about your body nor about having sex, you were insecure, however, when the partner in question had a wide range of previous sex partners who were professionals in the matter.

  “But that’s exactly why... They’re professionals, they’re the same as me, we have fun but at the end of the day, there’s nothing new. But you...” His head dipped in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and licking a long strip from the bottom of your neck to the spot below your earlobe “you’re so new. You look so innocent, so breakable. God, I wanna destroy you.” 

 He applied more pressure on the grip he had on your waist and you shivered at his dominant tone. The fact that you knew he was naked and hard under the robe didn’t help you calm down. You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, not knowing what to respond.

 San chuckled and held your chin.

  “Don’t look at me like that... I don’t have much self-control baby, I’ll fuck you against this wall.” 

  The director called everyone on set, obliging San to pull away from you and make his way toward the door. As he turned the knob he looked at you over his shoulder.

 “You better be watching what I do, cause the whole time I’ll be imagining it’s you under me.”

 He winked and left the room. You stood there, frozen, still processing what had happened. It was almost inconceivable that such a man wanted to fuck you, yet his actions proved his intentions. Remembering his words, you turned on your heels and headed over to the set. 

 You watched each of his moves with twice as much willingness and attentiveness now, and not long after, both you and San were imagining the girl being taken by the man was you. You bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together, his sentences and his deep, sensual voice replaying over and over in your head. San stole a little glance at you, and you could tell he noticed your stiff body stance by the smirk that appeared on his lips. San gripped a handful os the poor girl’s hair and picked up the pace, as if telling you ‘be ready for later’.

   A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your body and you could feel wetness spreading between your folds. You couldn’t help but envision what he could do to you, if only a couple of words and glances had gotten you like that, your body begging for his. 

 When the woman finally sunk to her knees on the floor and San came all over her face with a loud moan, the cameras stopped rolling and the lights were turned off.

 The director told everyone it was a wrap and gave the staff and the actors the green light to go home. You walked over to the back of the room to grab your purse, when you felt a big pair of hands grab your hips and pull you back. Your back hit what you assumed to be San’s chest and you blushed.

  “Wait for me outside, okay baby? We’ll have a good time today...” He whispered in your ear. 

 San teasingly bit your earlobe and left, presumably to get dressed.  Your legs trembled and your nubs hardened at the sudden neediness and craving for his touch.

 You did as he had told you, and once you had gathered all of your things you headed outside and waited for him by the door. Not long after you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and a cheeky hand slid into the back pocket of your jeans.

  “Hm, you waited for me like I told you? What a good girl...”

 The praise and the little squeeze he gave your ass almost forced a small whimper out of your mouth, but you contained yourself.

 San walked you to his car, and once you had settled in and he had started the car, you started feeling nervous.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My place, love. I don’t have a sex dungeon to fuck you in.” 

  Your cheeks flushed a little and you mentally slapped yourself for the idiotic question. San placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed reassuringly.

  “Don’t be nervous Y/N.”

 His loving smile was back, and you couldn’t help but ease a little at the sight of it.

 The ride was silent, with nothing but the faint background music playing, which was exactly what you needed to get your thoughts in place. When the car came to a halt, a new wave of nervousness and doubt hit you. 

 You stepped out of the car and followed him nonetheless.

 His house was not one bit less intimidating than him. It was a big, futuristic-looking house and as you paced your way inside it and looked around, you realized how much money a pornstar really must make.

 San caught a hold of your wrist and pulled you inside of one of the rooms, immediately shutting the door behind you.

  “Safeword is Purple, okay baby?” He told you, as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

 You nodded, as you stood in the middle of the room with your hands clasped behind your back. You were already scared, and the safe word ordeal did no good.

 His shirt fell to the floor and soon his jeans joined, and no matter how many times you had seen his naked body, every time you laid eyes on those broad shoulders, his protruding six-pack and his gorgeous thighs, your mouth would water.

 You allowed him to push you down onto the bed. His fingers played with the hem of your t-shirt as he looked at his own fingers playfully.

 His head lowered and he connected his lips to your neck. He left small kisses at first, but the innocence soon washed away and the soft pecks were replaced by rather harsh bites and some sucking. 

  San pulled your shirt off of your body, taking a second to appreciate the nice shape of your breasts. He cupped both of them in his hands and gave them a squeeze.

 His fingers experientially unhooked your bra and threw it somewhere. Before you could cover your breasts with your hands, San, who had seen that coming, grabbed your wrists and pinned each of them beside your head.

  “Don’t try that baby, your body is mine to take now.” He whispered in your ear.  Your body quivered under his touch and never before had you been so desperate. 

 San’s tongue danced along the curves of your right breast. He took his time teasing you, before taking your hardened nipple in his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he sucked on it. He left no piece of skin unattended, as he gave you a hickey in the skin between your breasts when his mouth made its way to your left nipple.

 He let go of your wrists, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his hair, while his own fingers traced a pattern down your body, making their way to your jean’s button.

   Every touch, every bite and every moan drove you crazy, and San slowly uncovered a new façade of yours.

 San undid said button along with the zipper. He pulled away from your breasts so he could hook his fingers on the waistband of the pants and pull them down your body, however, being the cheeky man he is, as San’s fingers caught your pants, he made sure they’d also get your panties, and so they disappeared somewhere in the room with the rest of your clothes.

 Suddenly you felt very exposed, and the feeling soon became bigger when San took the liberty to spread your legs for him.

 His fingers hovered over your womanhood for a second, before two of his fingers parted your folds. He hummed and bit his lower lip at the side.

  “You look so good baby...”

 You hissed at the contact, as his middle finger easily slipped inside of you.

  “I thought I was going to have to prepare you...” He pulled out his finger, glistening with your cum and held it in the air “But it seems you’re already wet enough.”

 Remembering how much your innocent, puppy eyes had affected him you decided to tease him. You looked him in the eye, with the exact same expression.

 “Does that mean you’re going to fuck me now?” You asked, purposely pulling the clueless card.

 San’s jawline tightened and he settled between your legs. He slapped your thigh and gripped it harshly, as his lips came down to meet yours in a rough kiss. It was a type of kiss you’d never experienced before, there was a mix of hunger, lust, and somehow desperation.

 His teeth took your bottom lip between them and bit it lightly. You moaned at the harshness, and he pulled away. San stripped from his boxers and let his tip hit your bare pussy, rubbing it between your folds teasingly.

  “San please... Don’t tease me...” You begged.

  His hand, that was placed on your hip, traveled up your body, and wrapped around your throat, squeezing it.

  “Oh, baby, whatever will I do to you. I’m going to wreck you...”

  He followed his sentence by entering you. His thrusts were strong and slow at first, but the pace soon picked up.

 You couldn’t help but wonder how he still had so much stamina after a shoot like that... But he sure spared no mercy. He pounded into you until your hands were gripping the sheets and the headboard hit the wall loudly.

  The sounds of your moans and his groans echoed in the room, however, your main focus was on the lewd sounds his dick made as it rammed inside your pussy.

  Suddenly he pulled out and stood up from the bed.

  “Turn around princess, ass up.”

  You did as you were told and quickly perked your ass up for him. San shuffled with something in the room for a second and then you felt the bed dip by your feet. His hand caressed one of your cheeks and squeezed it.

  “Good girl...” He praised you.

  You then felt a sharp pain in your ass and you yelped. By the sound of the buckle and shape of the item that had hit you, you assumed he had fetched the belt he previously wore.

  You felt another whip to your ass, this time on a different cheek and you yelped louder. You didn’t know this about yourself, but you enjoyed the way the pain turned into pleasure, and whip after whip, your yelps morphed into moans.

 San loved the pink tint on your ass, and he would’ve loved to spank you for as long as you could handle, but his cock was already twitching and he wanted to come either in you or on you.

 He knelt behind you and lined up his tip with your entrance, carelessly and violently pounding into you. He would often smack your ass, reminding you of how much you’d loved the belt.

  “Fuck San, you’re so good...” You moaned.

 San gripped some of your hair in his fist and tugged on it.

  “You like it, hm? You like being fucked like this?”

 You moaned a loud ‘yes’ in response, earning a groan from the male behind you.

  “Be a good girl for me and cum on my cock Y/N... Please.”

  A couple more spanks and thrusts and you happily obliged to his wishes. Your arms gave in and so would’ve your legs if San didn’t hold up your waist. Your head was buried in a pillow and your back was arched as you moaned San’s name.

  Your beautiful sounds and your tightness almost sent San over the edge. He pulled out of you and jacked himself off to the view of your ass, cumming all over it soon after accompanied by a loud moan.

 San collapsed behind you on the bed and chuckled at your fucked out state. The man sweetly played with your hair and kissed the top of your head, as if saying ‘you did well’.

  “So, did you enjoy being fucked like a pornstar?”