#these character bubble asks are like my little cheat days

[oifaaa]

"I wouldn't do this to my worst enemy" I would.

You guys really do hand me these at times

[perlelune]

Creep | Oliver Quick

Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.

“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.

But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.

You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real. 

This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.

And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.

He’s your everything.

He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.

Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”

Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.

“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”

The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.

“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”

A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.

His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.

Felix shrugs.

“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”

Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”

You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.

You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.

“You’re an arsehole.”

His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.

“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”

You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”

He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”

“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”

Felix sighs.

“He doesn't have too many friends.  He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.

“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”

Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile. 

About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.

The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.

So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan. 

Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too. 

You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.

“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.

“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.

You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”

His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”

He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.

“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”

You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.

“Five minutes,” you offer.

He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.

“It’s all I need,” he coos.

The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands. 

As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun. 

It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it. 

Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.

You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.

“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister  lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.” 

You pivot to the rest of the group. 

“Have you guys seen him tonight?”

Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.

“Desperate much?” he teases.

“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”

Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”

“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind.  What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.

You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.

Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth. 

You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.

It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.

You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting,  condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.

You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times. 

A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth. 

“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss. 

When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”

He then introduces the shy boy.

“That’s Ollie.”

“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.

You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward. 

“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say. 

Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.

“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.

His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.

“Prescott,” he answers.

You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.

“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”

“Probably not, actually.”

Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”

Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.

“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”

You slant your head. “Problems?”

Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”

“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”

“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”

Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”

You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.

Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.

A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.

You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back. 

As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix. 

“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.

Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus. 

“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.

Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”

You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…

You catch yourself before finishing the thought.

Now that’s just crazy.

“But I saw…”

Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off  you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.

“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”

He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.

His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”

“Felix, wait…”

He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Your stomach sinks.

“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.

The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.

Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.

Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.

You get nothing. 

You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.

“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted. 

“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.

“I am today.”

“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”

Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling. 

“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”

“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.

You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.

Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close. 

For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts. 

Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,

“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”

You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.

You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.

Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.

Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you. 

Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.

That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation. 

So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.

You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.

The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.

Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back. 

The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy  never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.

It’s sort of creepy in your opinion. 

Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver. 

And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something. 

It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door. 

Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops. 

You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness. 

You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.

Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.

Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.

You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.

You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.

When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.

“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.

He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.

Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.

He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”

You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?

You bat your lashes at Oliver.

“You got any alcohol?”

His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”

How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.

It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”

You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.

Your mouth wobbles.

Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.

His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.

His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.

Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back. 

“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow. 

Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips. 

You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.

Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.

Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.

You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.

Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”

Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.

“Oliver, please…”  you beseech, shock making your voice shake.

He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.

Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.

He smiles down at you.

“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”

Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.

But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.

He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.

He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.

You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.

He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.

Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.

He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.

Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back. 

“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…” 

His warm breath fans over your earshell.

“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”

When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.

“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat. 

A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.

You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.

“Oliver, please,” you repeat.

He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses. 

“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”

Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.

“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. 

“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”

The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up. 

What would you even say?

This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him. 

You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes. 

You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly. 

You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise. 

Pulse quickening, you head for the door. 

Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.

Before leaving,  you look back. 

Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now. 

No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.

A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips. 

Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.

Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.

You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.

You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.

And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.

When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.

The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.

Oliver did not care…

The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.

A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.

Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.

“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.

His deep voice penetrates through the door.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks. 

He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.

“Right now is not the best time.”

He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”

Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”

“I could take care of you…”

You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.

“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.

“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.

Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.

“Felix,” you greet.

He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.

“I really missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.

His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”

“More like a selfish arsehole.”

His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.

A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.

“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”

“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.

Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.

“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”

Words leave your mouth without forethought.

“Who was it this time?”

He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.

“It was Annabel.”

“Oh.”

The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him. 

Sincerity vibrates in his tone. 

“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…” 

You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break. 

He leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he states.

You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you. 

He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach. 

“I love you,” he repeats.

Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you. 

“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.

A sunny smile breaks out on his face.

“No more lies from now on.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.

“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.

Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.

“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.

The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I need to go to class,” you chime. 

You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.

Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.

“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”

You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.

“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”

Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave. 

“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.

Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.

Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.

What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.

You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.

He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.

It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.

As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.

You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.

Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight. 

Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor. 

And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.

You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.

As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape. 

Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months. 

It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.

These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it. 

But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.

Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.

“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.

You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.

His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.

Your pulse soars as he inches closer.

“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”

Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”

Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.

“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”

When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh. 

“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”

Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him. 

Oliver smiles. 

“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.” 

Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His  gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer. 

Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.

“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”

A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.

“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.

“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.

“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”

Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”

He strokes under your thigh absently.

“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”

When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression. 

“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

Each day, each week, your hope dwindles. Barrett doesn’t change. He’s not going to change. You know for sure as you watch him storm out. 

That’s why you didn’t talk to him sooner. It always ends like this. He gets defensive, you get emotional, and it all erupts. If he would just listen! 

You sigh and hold your chin in your hand. You look around at your small apartment. Even when you’ve just cleaned, it feels cluttered. You hate this place. You feel trapped. Or maybe that’s your relationship. Probably, both. 

You don’t think it was that bad to ask for a bit of understanding. All you want is for him to communicate. Instead, he sits on all his gripes until the bubble over in another rant about the squeaky bathroom faucet or the way you fold his shirts. It’s always on you. You’re the one who has to make him happy. Never the other way around. 

This time, it wasn’t the dishes or the mopping or the recycling. Nope. You’re not attentive enough. You’re depriving him. You’re punishing him by not having sex with him after working overtime four nights out of five. It can’t be that you’re tired or hurt. No, it’s an attack on him. 

That’s where it all fell apart.

You tried. Once you got past the frustration and tried to just let the waters calm. When you started talking to him again and fell back into your routine. You were both too busy to keep the fight going. And a few nights, you let him initiate but something would keep you from going all the way. 

Something... 

You saw Wendy last week. She didn’t mention anything about the night you went out. Didn’t mention a guy. She said she had fun and you should do it again. You told her you can’t afford it. Besides, you’re too tired. She called you boring. She’s not wrong. 

You get up and distract yourself. Well, it’s not really for you, is it? You’ll clean everything from corner to corner so he has nothing to complain about. You don’t need him to nitpick another reason to hound you. 

So much for time off. Once more you’re spending it in misery. You finish vacuuming then spray the couch with some freshener. Feeling accomplished but not less addled, you go to the bedroom and pull out some clothes for tomorrow. You’ll go to bed early and get a head start. If you’re lucky, you’ll be asleep before he drags his sorry ass home. 

You yawn as you stare at the time. It’s barely five o’clock and you could keel over. These days, you’re beat to the bone. You can’t remember the last time when you didn’t feel like a sack of dirt. You put your work clothes on the dresser then grab a fresh towel for the shower. 

You wash up, soothed by the warm water, and emerge in a hazy cloud. You go through the motions of applying the discount bin toner and moisturizer. You feel a little fresher. 

You tuck into bed and scroll on your phone for a while. Six-thirty. You black the screen and close your eyes. It takes as much to put you to sleep. 

You dream about flashing lights and the clink of glass. You’re swaying to a drone of music, spinning and swirling. The place is painted in streaks of colours as you keep moving. And when you manage to stop, the room turns on an axis, keeping you dizzy. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and pull you back into a thick body. You can’t escape. You look down and know those aren’t your husband’s hands. Where are you? Who is holding onto you? 

You try to turn around but it’s impossible. You’re stuck in the strange embrace as the neon lights melt and the air pulses with shadows. You push on the arms around you and wriggle desperately.

“Let me go,” you beg, “let me go.” 

Your words rise to a shriek and you wake up with a start. There’s a figure in the room watching you, as if waiting for you to wake up. You almost scream for real as Barrett stares at you. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay before he turns away. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he grumbles. 

You don’t argue as you catch your breath and lower yourself back to the pillows. You can smell the tinge of beer left behind. He’s been drinking. You can’t begrudge him that, not really. Last time it got bad, you did the same thing. At least he came home. 

You cringe. No. Stop. Nothing happened. No one can prove it happened. Not even you. So, it didn’t. 

Your stomach mulches and you turn onto your side. The nausea roils in your stomach. You must be hungry. You didn’t eat. Yet the thought of doing so makes you even sicker. You burp and swallow down the mouthful of acid that sears your throat. 

Stress. It’s stress. And it’s not going to get any better. Not with everything you’re running away from. 

[stunie]

i was listening to after midnight by chappel roan and i just! imagined! tsubaki!

like imagine being out with a shitty boyfriend whose ignoring you at a bar and just

“i kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend if you don’t mind- i love a little drama- let’s start a bar fight” and just!

i’m so down bad for tsubaki it’s a problem 😭😭😭

-🥟

🥟 !!! this ask was such a vibe tbh i loved it this sm. you gave me a fun lil song (that’s now in my playlist btw) and a scenario anddd an awesome character ?? i had to write something :> thank u for dropping by !!!! tsubaki is such a lovely character <3 (u r even lovelier)

tasuku tsubakino (tsubaki) x f!reader. sfw. cw cheating (but ur technically not in an official relationship so…!?)

“he’s not with you?”

you’re perking up at the familiar sound of tsubaki’s voice, doe eyes locked on his figure as he slides into the seat beside you before letting out a heavy sigh.

“this again?” he gestures towards your boyfriend, the one who was currently on the other side of the room— over there with another girl.

you’re as quick as always to start shaking your head in denial, hands balling up into frustrated little fists as you press them further into your lap— because hearing things like this never got any less embarrassing no matter how many times you had heard them.

and now that you think about it, it seems like tsubaki was always the one who was catching you at the worst times possible. it was always him being there with you as soon as your boyfriend was leaving you all by yourself again.

and actually… could you even call him your boyfriend? he never officially asked you out.

you can still remember it as clear as day— the very first time tsubaki had asked you if you were seeing anyone. the pause in your voice before you were sputtering out the most confusing response he’s ever heard in his life was all he needed to understand your situation.

you hear tsubaki let out a knowing hum from beside you as soon as your lips are tugging into that pouty frown that he’s grown all too familiar with. that boyfriend of yours— he thinks to himself, what a fucking waste. a pretty face like yours should never be given a reason to frown like that.

it would never happen with him.

“want me to keep you company instead?” he’s giggling when your lips fall open in surprise, deciding to push that bubbling feeling of frustration away for a second and really take in that adorable look you’re giving him.

“i’m more fun, anyways.”

“…h-huh?” you stammer, and the sweet smile tsubaki gives you in response does nothing to rid of your clear confusion. “isn’t that… you know?” you’re quickly looking around before you lean in, as if whispering a dark secret to your best friend, “..cheating? that’s bad.”

oh. you’ve always been exactly like that from the very first day he met you. almost painfully sweet and so, so very oblivious.. because this alleged boyfriend of yours clearly had a much different idea of what you two were.

tsubaki knows this because he’s always kept an eye out for you. you might be too oblivious to notice the men who’ve been ogling at you this entire time, but he’s not.

if your loser of a boyfriend wasn’t gonna protect you, someone else needed to.

“hm?” tsubaki’s fingertip presses into his bottom lip, head tilting to the side, “well, you two aren’t official, no?”

your pout deepens at the implication.

“it’ll be me,” he points to himself, “and you,” he flicks his manicured finger your direction, and you’re suddenly much more aware of how pretty his lipstick looks on him when his lips are moving like that.

“and i’ll give you a little kiss.”

“hm..” your voice comes out quiet and murmured when his hand comes to cup the side of your cheek, thumb stroking the skin as he leans in a little closer, eyes softening as he patiently waits for your decision.

“o-okay,” you finally nod, and he’s letting out an small exhale he didn’t know he was holding to begin with, “…and this is gonna make him jealous?”

tsubaki gives you an eager nod.

“he’s missing out big time,” he smiles at you, eyes flickering towards your boyfriend for a moment— making sure he gets a clear look at this before he’s delicately tilting your head up, closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

your eyes are quick to flutter shut as the familiar heat rises in your cheeks, and you wrap your fingers around tsubaki’s wrist to keep him exactly where he’s at. he’s gentle with you, but the soft whimper that slips out of you from the way he’s moving his lips against yours has his heart skipping a couple beats, his free hand now wrapping around your waist to bring you even closer against him.

“good,” tsubaki whispers against your lips between kisses, sneaking a glance at your boyfriend— who was now staring at you with wide eyes, “let’s show him just what exactly he’s missing out on.”

[absolutebl]

Hiii, I'm glad the ask box is open!

Idk if you already did a rec list on this, but can you recommend me old bls, like 90/2000s? I watched Seven days movies and its really good

Oh yay! Seven Days is the best. Actually, I have never done this. Here's a list of...

10+ BL's rated 7/10 or higher that aired prior to 2018

Just Friends?

Korea 2009 Gaga

This is Korea's first (kinda) upbeat version of a BL featuring already established boyfriends, one of whom is on military leave, trying to decide on coming out, family life, and the future. All of these are themes Korea will pretty much never tackle again, retreating as they would to their bubble. But what a fun little offering this little show was and is to this day. You should watch it.

Love Sick & Love Sick 2

Thai 2014 YouTube

This is one of those BLs that owes almost nothing to yaoi, although it started a number of tropes that are now endemic to Thai BL. What it is, instead, is a well scripted story of bisexual self-discovery and the inherent chaos of loving someone of the same gender for the first time, all wrapped up in hormones, existing relationships, and communication issues. It is high school queer angst at its messiest. Nothing is going to be easy for these boys because queer isn’t easy but also because life isn’t easy… welcome to adulthood sweethearts.

I'm actually considering a rewatch of these beginning of 2024 in honor of the 10 year anniversary if anyone wants to join.

Seven Days

Japan 2015 grey

The asker already mentioned it but still, never doubt my ability to recommend this show. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

Addicted: Heroin

China 2016 Viki

When Chinese BL was good it was very dirty good and when it was bad it was censored. This is the model for that statement: rich kid falls madly for the genius poor kid in his class, starts an aggressive pursuit, includes kidnapping for love, obsession, stepbrother trope, plus some cheating. I love this BL because of what I could have been. Just stop watching it after The Sex Scene. Okay?

SOTUS & SOTUS S & SOTUS Our Skyy

Thai 2016 YouTube

This is the BL that launched a hundred BLs. No literally, it was SOTUS’s international success that pretty much built the Thai BL industry into the juggernaut it is today. People have baggage around SOTUS, I have nostalgia. Trigger warning on bully hazing. Review and discussion here.

Make it Right 1 & 2 (but not Beach)

Thai 2016 YouTube (Cheewin warning)

What to say about this show, the origin of the Thai BL pulps? It’s objectively terrible, and not just the leads but the side couple too - yet I love it. I tend to call myself the “world’s foremost Make It Right apologist.” I recognize the issues but I find it utterly charming, especially Tee’s utter devotion to Fuse the baby bi disaster.

Long Time No See

Korea 2017 Gaga

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war who fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Good fight sequences, mature characters, high heat, very suspenseful, AND an HEA. If you like KinnPorsche or Kiseki you will LOVE this one.

HIStory Obsessed

Taiwan 2017 Viki

I weirdly love this but you should know what you are in for: that title. It has a stalking theme meets fated mates and quite a bit of dubious consent. Uke obsessed with seme to the point of losing himself and his identity dies after being rejected, and then has a chance to reboot his life. He decides to save himself by never falling in love. But destiny is a bitch, and this time the seme becomes obsessed with him. This one owes a lot to dark Chinese and Japanese BL, but kind of corrects for the expected sad dead finale by ending happily and playing with a ton of BL tropes. The leads have good chemistry, it's higher heat and the first time Taiwan starts to push that, and VERY DRAMATIC.

Some Others you might consider

Candy and Kiss - Japan 2015

Silhouette of Your Voice (Hidamari ga Kikoeru) - Japan 2017

Red Balloon - Taiwan 2017

(source)

[robynlilyblack]

Thought it was a silly tradition?

dad! remus lupin x mum! reader

Summary: Remus hates dressing up, especially when halloween was over a month ago, but the tradition is worth it for his girls

Warnings: swearing, established relationship, mom! reader, dad! remus, pure fluff, their daughter is named after remus' mum

A/n: 0.8k words, Day One of my advent calendar is a little fluffy one based on this request xx a masterlist for the event will be coming Saturday as I have a conference at uni tomorrow

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist

“I don’t understand why we have to dress up” you hear Remus grumple entering the kitchen as you search for a safety pin

“It’s tradition” you counter with a giggle, hand racking some of the larger things off to the side within the drawer you’re looking through

The tradition of having a halloween party on the 1st of December had started back in your last year at Hogwarts, when you, your fellow marauders, Lily, Marlene and Dorca had gotten detention for a full month after plans of your original party had been leaked. So Sirius and James being Sirius and James decided to throw one on the 1st instead, then the following year thought it would be a laugh to do the same thing again and the rest was history. Now even 9 years later you were all still dressing up along with all of your respective children 

He huffs at that, picking up the just boiled kettle to pour himself some coffee “Merlin this thing is itchy” he states and you can see in the corner of your eye your husband shaking his head from side to side as he stirs his drink

“Found it” you say mostly to yourself, though Remus’ acute hearing most likely picked it up

Remus joins your side looking down at the little pin between your fingers “Rip your outfit bun? Or has your tail fallen off” he teases, leaning to the side to catch glimpse of your arse thats adorned with a little ball of grey puff

You chuckle, nudging him gently as not to spill his coffee “No it’s for Hope” you tell him and his eyes soften

“Are you two ever going to tell me what character she is?” he wonders, all the information he was given was Hope saw a cartoon and wanted them all to dress up, him as some kind of fox, you a police bunny which was one, apparently a thing and two, rather fitting given your animagus “She some bunny…fox hybrid?” he muses but you don’t budge

“Patience Mr wolf” you peck his lips “All in good time, no following me you stay outside the door” you warn as you walk back towards your daughters room with him in tow

“Fine fine” he holds one hand up, resting his back on the wall beside the door frame as he sips his coffee, smiling as he hears his daughter giggle with you “Can I get a hint?”

“No” you both call out together before more laughter bubbles, he tries not to listen in too hard, ruin the surprise you and Hope are clearly excited for, but he does let himself indulge in your soft spoken words while fixing her costume, as well as the small ‘I love you mumma’ Hope whispers back

“Okay is daddy ready?” you say towards the door and Remus places his cup down in preparation, smiling as you come out with little bunny ears and then his daughter as a…cheetah?

He looks towards you smiling yet with a questioning look “Cheating on me?” he jokes quietly but your daughter catches, pouting

“No dad, Cheetah…” he bounces on the balls on her feet “...see i have the spots” she points to her onesie under the police uniform

“Oh of course” he kneels down, fake surprise so as not to upset her while trying to laugh at his daughter's innocence “So who are you pup?” he asks kissing her onesie clad forehead as not to ruin her face paint

“Ben!” she chirps happily earning a chuckle from you and Remus

“And who is daddy?” he asks next

“You’re Nick!” she says, slowly getting more excited

“And mummy?” he smiles wide, unable to stop himself at the sight of his daughter so giddy

“Officer Hopps” you reply for her, doing a little power pose before kneeling down to which Remus kisses your cheek and then Hopes as he knows she’ll get jealous if he doesn’t “Crime fighting trio aren’t we baby” you endearingly scrunch your nose up at her

Hope nods quickly, cutely “Yeah!” she exclaims happily but her expression falters a little bit as she turns back to him “You like my costume?” she asks quietly, looking down at him with those bunny eyes she could only have inherited from you

“I love it, best costume yet and we are so going to win the costume contest” he assures her, hands finding her shoulders and giving them a quick squeeze at the end

She grins at that, cheesing away “Why don’t you put on some shoes honey? Then we’ll head to Uncle Prongs house” you tell her and she practically sprints as fast as a cheetah into her room to do so “I hate dressing up” you mock your husband's voice 

“Fuck off” he pokes your side before standing up, holding out his hand to help you as you do the same 

“Thought it was a silly tradition?” you raise your eyebrows, he knows you know the answer, it happens every year but your eyes still light up every time

“And it is…but when it makes you and her shine like that...” his hands find your hips, pulling you closer to him "...it's a little less silly and always worth it"

You nudge your nose with his “Good answer” you whisper before capturing his lips in a soft, prolonged kiss that's only interrupted a few seconds later by your daughter 

“Ewww!”

Thank you for reading ♡

[agaypanic]

That 70s Show Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Request Something!

If you’d like to be notified about future works, send me an ask/DM saying what characters/fandoms you want to be notified for and I’ll add you to a tag list!

Any feedback (likes, reblogs, comments) is greatly appreciated :)

ONE SHOTS

The Playboy’s Comfort

☮️When you found out that Hyde cheated on you, you were left destroyed. When you need some help, you’re surprised by how comforting Kelso can be. ~2.1k words

Take a Chance on Me

☮️Senior year had been full of ups and downs for the gang. After having to convince some of your friends, you all go to the last dance of the year. Your ex-boyfriend Michael Kelso has a secret plan to get you back. ~1.8k words

Bubbles

☮️You want to take a bath with your boyfriend. He thinks the bubbles and candles are a little girly for him, but he can’t say no to you. ~1.1k words

Better a Friend Than a Stranger (Pregnant!Reader)

☮️After having a drunk hook up with one of your friends, you agree to pretend it never happened. But soon you find out that there’s growing evidence of your one night stand with Michael Kelso. ~1.7k words

HEADCANONS

Falling For An Over Achiever

☮️Michael Kelso falling for an over achiever that's not interested in him headcanons ~1.5k words

PLAYLIST

ONE SHOTS

Eric’s Buddy (Male!Reader)

🛼Eric’s new lab partner makes him have an identity crisis. ~1.6k words

Second Best (GN!Reader)

🛼Eric thought that Donna was who he was supposed to end up with. But after a clash between her and his best friend Y/n, he realizes he’s been after the wrong person this whole time. ~1.7k words

Nap Time

🛼You love your friends, but the best days are the ones spent with just your boyfriend. ~500 words

Boys Like Boys (Male!Reader)

🛼Hyde finds out about your secret but growing feelings for his best friend and makes it clear he’s not a fan of that. When you start to distance yourself from the gang because of it, Eric starts asking questions. ~2.7k words

A Reason to Smile

🛼Rain and busy friends means you and your boyfriend can finally relax and have some alone time. ~500 words

HEADCANONS

Smutty Headcanons

🛼Smutty headcanons/scenarios with Eric Forman ~700 words

ONE SHOTS

Proud of You

🕶️Hyde never cared for school or big events that didn’t revolve around him getting wasted. But he always shows up for his favorite girl. ~700 words

On My Nerves

🕶️Despite having the same friends for years, you and Steven Hyde have never seemed to get along. Your latest squabble with the boy sparks a fire, both literally and figuratively. ~1.5k words

Wear a Helmet

🕶️Steven Hyde thinks you’re nothing more than Eric’s sister, a try-hard, goody two-shoes teacher’s pet. But while taking a cruise around town, he sees a completely different side of you at a batting cage. ~1.2k words

[plantsarepeopletoo]

Thai QL Favorites Tag game

Thanks @rocketturtle4 !

First time doing this, I think Ive been here for a month? Came from reddit but wasn't part of the bl community there.

Of course I'm following along with the Favorite thing over "best" cause it's probably more interesting than just saying ITSAY.

Favorite Thai QL: So I want to say Not Me or 1000 stars, for different reasons. I started watching Not Me before I understood it was a BL, and was very confused when offgun started having "moments". Wasn't mad about it, just wasn't expecting it. I thought it was just mystery/social commentary. That said, I wish it went a little harder on the social commentary, but I understand that they might have pushed as far as they could at the time (while still getting money to make the show)

But 1000 stars made me feel all the emotions and if I ever need to just have a good cry, that's my go to.

Pictures for Turtles:

(Though honestly Turtles, I get it, I have to use MDL to look up everyone to see what they were in before, like Max from BMF)

Favorite Pairing: Disclaimer, I hate the fanservice and pressure for the actors to act like they're dating. That being said, I like OffGun, omg I love Gun's acting in Not Me. And I like EarthMix, I just wish Earth was able to not be type cast into such serious roles. He seems like a very funny dude, give him a character who can be bubbly. I like everything they've been in, and I hope to see more in the future.

Most underrated actor: Perth Nakhun Screaigh? I'd like to see him in more stuff. Before Laws of Attraction came out I would have said Film. Jam and Film both did great in To Sir, here's to hoping they get more attention.

Favorite Character: It might be early, but Charn from Laws of Attraction. From a show that is already completed, White. We took a well off boy who saw there was wrong in the world, decided he didn't like how his brother was doing things, and figured his own way of fixing the world. I'm starting to see I have a type. Charn might be a mix of Black and White if they had decided to work from inside the judicial system. Protecting who they could while being jaded and waiting for a chance to get back at those in power.

Favorite Side Character: I'm a simple person - Max from BMF, just because it's nice to see a confident gay character that is smart. He doesn't have much screen time, but whenever he does I am so ready for it.

Favorite scene in a QL: Pisaeng winning the stuffed animal for Kawi in Be My Favorite. How he was acting before and after, the whole thing was perfect and showed so much of Pisaeng's character. My favorite type of scene, and I think Thai bl does a really good job at it, is colored lighting. I think I first noticed it in KP during the Vegas Pete scenes. They started mixing the colors as Pete and Vegas started to understand each other more *chefs kiss* that type of thing is my jam.

Favorite line in a QL: Oh this is hard cause I do not have the memory for these types of things. So I'm going to cheat a little and say anytime consent is asked for and given.

Most Anticipated QL (& why): Looking forward to Only Friends really no other reason than it looks like it's about to be great fun. Also the two horror bls coming up, The Whisper and The shadow? I don't know much about either and I'm going to keep it that way.

Healthiest relationship in a QL: Gun and Cher from a boss and a babe? Cher did feel super inferior but that didn't come from Gun. Gun supported Cher with everything and Cher felt comfortable to "act like a bad boss" in our skyy. I liked their whole vibe.

Most toxic relationship in a QL: EVERYONE from Love Syndrome? Just... the whole thing. Itt and Day's levels of jealousy are off the charts and played off as romantic. Day doesn't want Itt to learn how to cook or do anything for himself because he wants Itt to be completely dependent on him. I'm hoping for Only friends to be toxic, but not played off as romantic.

Guilty pleasure series: I will knock you or ghost host ghost house. They're both really fun and I can just turn off my brain to watch.

Most Underrated Series: Apparently La Pluie? To Sir With Love needs more attention, but it's very different than what we normally expect from Thailand. Also, even though I understand all the flack it got, I really liked Step By Step.

@italianpersonwithashippersheart @befuddledcinnamonroll hopefully you have not done this yet?

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

2.

I admit that there was an unfair, silent bias within me against frat guys. But, who could blame me? Their reputations preceded them. They always wore frat-branded clothes. They traveled in packs. They spoke and acted like idiots. They tended to be racist, homophobic, misogynistic, or some combination of all three. 

My first interaction with a frat guy during my freshman year at Tulane affirmed everything I had seen about them in the media. It was the first party Lily ever dragged me to. I wore my New England uniform; a sweater, docs, and loose-fitting jeans. 

Not even an hour into my time at Sig Chi, I heard a loud voice shout: "Yo! Who invited the lesbo?" right next to me. I turned in the direction of the voice and saw a Kappa Alpha brother staring right at me, laughing at my expense.

"Seriously?" I challenged him.

"Come on, Hannah," Lily spoke lowly into my ear, grabbing my hand to pull me away from the guy.

"Aw, the lesbian got mad at me!" the guy shouted. His comment was met with a cacophony of male laughter. Likely his Kappa Alpha brothers encouraging his bad behavior. 

From then on, I was wary of these males. I stayed clear of them, even at parties. I felt no remorse for stealing their alcohol, getting drunk, and leaving without getting to know a single one. I made sure to dress differently at parties after that, though. I couldn't risk another encounter of that nature.

My avoidance of these frat guys was directly challenged by the seating arrangement in my Calculus class, though. I had no idea that when Kyle Spencer sat next to me on the first day, that my fate would be sealed for the rest of the semester. There was something about Kyle that made me cringe. I knew nothing about him except for his frat status, and his tendency to act stupid.

He was willing to do anything to impress his frat brothers. He had been a human coat rack once at a party. At another, he got so belligerently drunk that he ended up asleep in the fountain outside the library --  2 miles from the party. This was all hearsay. I hadn't been there to witness those stunts, but there was photo evidence. I feared what he would do sitting just inches from me. What if a frat dare caused him to make some sort of mess in class, or ask me out as a joke? I felt funny just being near him. 

His egregious tendency to be late to class didn't help my case, either. By the time he arrived, there would be no other seat available than the one directly next to me. I had no choice but to have an obnoxious frat guy exist within my personal bubble. 

As it turns out, though, Kyle was impressively good at calculus. Like, inhuman. Despite barely paying attention during lectures, he finished the first weekly quiz with ease. I, on the other hand, was nearly the last person to hand in my paper. When we got the results the following Monday, I failed, while Kyle got a 90%. 

I decided it would be in my best interest to cheat on the next quiz by looking at his paper. We had a small quiz every Friday, testing our knowledge of what we had covered that week. The professor chose to do this in lieu of homework assignments. My notes were exhaustive and diligent, but still, I walked in on that Friday with an empty head, somehow having forgotten things I had learned just a day prior. 

Just as I suspected, the quiz got handed out, and I was hopelessly clueless. I didn't cheat often, so I wasn't used to looking inconspicuous. I feigned a stretch and looked over at Kyle's paper, for probably a touch too long. His head snapped in my direction. He let out a laugh and covered his quiz with his hand.

Oh, so we're the perfect little suck-up, are we, Spencer? I thought.

I struggled through the rest of the quiz. Kyle stood to hand his in. He was the first in the whole class. I shot a glare in his direction as he walked back to his seat to grab his bag. We were told we were dismissed as soon as we finished, so he smiled and left. I cursed him out in my thoughts and turned my attention back to my own quiz, which I was surely about to fail. 

I ended up leaving about half of the damn thing blank before time was called.  I slumped back in my seat with a huff and began to pack up my things. Almost the entire class had already filed out so I rushed to get out to get some lunch. I sighed, vowing to get as drunk as possible as soon as I could. I stepped out of the room into the bright daylight of the afternoon. The sun's light on the pavement was nearly blinding. I shaded my eyes with my hand as I walked in the direction of my apartment.

"You gotta be slicker than that," a voice called out behind me, followed by a chuckle. I turned and saw Kyle sitting on the half-wall outside the building with Archie. Both of them stared at me, smiling condescendingly. I spun on my heel and walked away, waiting until I was a good enough distance away to cry. I didn't want them to know they had gotten a rise out of me. 

Fuck you, Kyle Spencer, I thought, tears streaming down my face as I turned down my street.

Previous Part | Next Part

[amugoffandoms]

Ooh, 3, 17, and 29 for the fic asks if you want :D

whoopee!! more mug's ao3 writing wrapped!! here's the list!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

i am incapable of picking just one so here's a list aidnjf!!

Sing Your Sins! - yeah this would be an obvious choice but like audhgjgjg it was so fun to write about!! just let them be happy guys please!,!@,&$$

37.2°C -- Yuno Kashiki's Trial 2 Voice Drama - I had a blast rewriting some of yuno's trial 2 vd for this swap au judt man some of the last lines kinda just hit hard and man judt man

a mug of whumptober 2023 fics - is this cheating?? yeah a little bit buy i had so much fun writing some of this!! really can't wait to get to the rest shhffjjf

ILOLL - yeah the characters are historical figures, I like writing and if the story just so happens to be through these figures that were sort of modernized by a musical then yeah ajfjfjf ANYWAYS you can see my favorite part of formatting and also gruesome writing in this ajfhfj love both of those things dearly sjjf

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

yuno.

but there are some close contenders!!

Sayori is really fun to write! There's a balance of bubbly and bittersweet you have to hit and it's always fun standing on that line! also just sayo :]

Es, Mahiru, and Fuuta all because I've written them a few times to understand their character better and also they have beliefs and traits that are so intrinsically woven into their character that it's like Oh we're gonna have fun writing this yippee!!

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

oh man there's so many auauausu

here are some that i picked out sjfjf

“Ha, you know that you’re just pushing everyone away when you’re being honest?” She knows. She knows. It’s stupid, but she knows. No matter what she’s like, she’ll have to lie. Just to have a little warmth. How cruel is that?

Shidou hears that voice. He can’t tell who said that, probably one of the doctors pulling him out of the room. Closing his mouth to stop the next scream, he realizes, for a second, he believes them. He believes that if he lets other people dip their hands in the ocean of blood he wades through every day, his wife will be waiting for him. His wife will be alive.

It's only that noise and him standing around. He can feel his chest tighten with guilt and dread. If he dared to breathe, it felt like something akin to a noose constricted his breath, pulling him away.

"Sometimes I wake up and everything feels frozen. It's cold and I can't feel anything. It's nothing. I can't feel the light against my face. I can't feel my body ache for relief."

"Y-Yuno—" "I can't tell if I'm on the edge of my life or I'm already dead." "!" "Then, Mahiru-san comes into my cell with Shidou-san. He fixes my bandages. And, eventually, I feel something. It's cold." "..." Es stares at the other. "I think we both know, even Shidou. I'm on the verge of dying, Es." Es stands up and slams the table, with Yuno only blankly staring. "Yuno, you aren't going to—" "Am I... really alive?"

so that's it!! :D thank you for asking ^^

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

rich girl 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as bullying, manipulation, cheating, noncon/dubcon, Lloyd being Lloyd, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your long awaited ascension to the Home Owners Association proves more than you bargained for. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, side of Cole Turner

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

You go home but can’t forget about what happened. You’ve never in your life dealt with someone like that man. He was so bold and brazen and shameless. Much different than your husband.

Even if you still don’t know what he did to land in the crosshairs of the HOA, you can assume it wasn’t very dissimilar to your own encounter. You hope they’ll understand when you tell them you couldn’t get a signature. You delivered the message but you can’t help that that man didn’t want to listen.

You find it hard to calm down as you try to focus on chores instead of your failure. All this time you spent trying to be a part of the in-crowd and now you’re falling flat on your face. Maybe you aren’t cut out for this. Maybe Cole is wrong.

As you scrub dishes, the lazy tones of your music playing from the little bluetooth stuck to the tile, a sudden squeeze around your hips makes you jump. You cry out and spin, splashing your husband as he stands behind you. He closes his eyes as the water soaks the front of his shirt, your yellow gloves dripping with soap bubbles.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you,” you squeal.

“It’s fine,” he uses his sleeve to wipe his face, “I know you didn’t. I wanted to scare you.”

“Ugh, you know I hate that,” you pout.

“So,” he grabs the dish towel from the rack and dabs at his button-up, “tell me all about it. How was your first meeting?”

He turns to lean in the crook of the counter, watching you expectantly. You seal your lips and face the sink again. You plunge your hands into the water and shrug.

“It was okay,” you say, “I... I have an assignment so... uh...” you don’t know how to tell him what happened. You think maybe it’s better he doesn’t know. “I’m working on it.”

“An assignment?” He tilts his head, “exciting. What is it?”

You chew your lip and put another plate in the dishwasher, “just you know this guy...” you gulp dryly as you grasp for a lie, “he has this thing on his lawn so I’m just supposed to you know, get him to move it.”

“Wow, hard-hitting stuff,” he chuckles, “you’re like a police officer or something.”

“Not really. I mean, he could just ignore me,” you frown guiltily. That’s exactly what happened.

“Hm, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, baby,” he coos as he stands straight, “what’s for dinner?”

“Oh, shoot. I forgot the roast,” you strip the gloves off your hands and shut off the faucet, “I guess... I could do chops?”

“Ah, sounds delicious,” he creeps closer as you open the fridge, “and dessert?”

“Dessert? Well, erm, I could do like sorbet or sponge cake--”

He comes around the door and hugs you from behind, “I’m not talking about food, honey,” he rocks you and reaches to close the fridge door. He taps on the calendar, “ovulating... right?”

You look at the days circled with hearts. Oh yeah. Your heart flutters and you turn in his arms, touching his chest. You’re almost too anxious to get into it but you missed it last month. You can’t risk it again.

“Yeah, I uh, sure am,” you chime.

“Mm,” his blue eyes turn smoky, “do I really have to wait until after dinner to have my dessert?”

You giggle, more uneasy than aroused. You’re just not ready for it but you also don’t have the heart to deny him. Besides, you’ll just be too tired later.

“That’s up to you,” you run your hands across his shoulders, “are you feeling peckish?”

“Starving,” he snarls and his hands circle your waist, “babe, I wanna try something new.”

“New?” You ask.

“Mm hmm,” he bites his lip, “take your clothes off... but keep the apron on.”

You look down and back at him. You grin crookedly, “oh?”

“Trust me?”

“Of course,” you quaver and step away from the fridge, the door falling shut behind you.

He stands back and crosses his arms. You notice his pants twitch as he watches you. You untie the apron and let it hand loosely from your neck. You reach to unzip your dress and shimmy out of it. As you go to roll down your nylons, he tuts.

“You can keep those too.”

Your cheeks are on fire as you unhook your bra and pull it out from under the apron. As you roll down your panties, he lets out a gritty breath. His hand covers the bulge in his pants. You tie a bow in the back of the apron, cinching your waist as your tits threaten to spill out and the cool air tickles your bare bum.

“Will you use your mouth?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt, his hands eagerly clumsy.

“Is that what you want?” You ask. He’s not usually this adventurous. In the kitchen?

“Sure,” he pushes his pants down and groans as his dick catches in the elastic of his briefs, “god, I’ve been thinking of this all day.” He frees himself and sighs, “of you, baby.”

He beckons you forward as he pumps himself. You bend your knee and he tisks again. He pets your chin and looks you up and down.

“Not on your knees, just bend over,” he directs, “I wanna see your ass.”

You nearly gasp. He doesn’t often swear, even in the heat of the moment. You do as he says, bending and craning your head to level yourself with his tip as he aims it towards you. He’s pressing against you before you can even open your mouth.

His other hand comes up to grip your head, clamping your hair in a fist, as he forces you onto him. You gag and catch yourself on his thighs, teetering as you arch your feet. He rocks his hips, holding you still as he falls into a steady tempo, not waiting for you to warm him up.

His dick scrapes in your dry mouth. He groans as he tilts into you, deeper and deeper. You trail your hand up to cling to his shirt, moaning as you try to signal him to slow down. You can tell he’s been waiting but you’re not ready. You need a little longer to warm up.

“Mm, honey, you look so good,” he touches your back as he rocks you, “mm, yeah.”

He pushes further in, hitting the resistance at the back of your throat. He tugs your hair, angling your head as he buries himself in your throat. You spasm and choke around him. He’s never gone that deep. He lets out a shuddery growl.

“Yeah, so good,” he praises and slows, making long thrusts as moves his hand around your neck, feeling his intrusion. Your eyes well and you slap his chest. You can’t breathe. “Just a little more.”

He pushes until your lips are to his pelvis and slobber smears around your mouth. He relents as you clutch the front of his shirt and slides out completely. You cough and drag yourself up as you cling to him. You bat your lashes at him and press the back of your hand to your mouth.

His long lashes flutter, “sorry, baby, was that too much?”

You clear your throat and shake, nodding.

“I’m sorry, I was just excited,” he touches your shoulders, “come on, better not waste it. I feel it, this is the time.”

You wobble forward as he nudges you towards the counter. He turns to stand behind you, surprising you again. You’re always facing him, usually under him. He has all sorts of new ideas. He tickles your spine then grips your shoulder, leaning into you until you bend against the counter.

He rubs his tip along your butt, tracing the shape down to your folds. He bends his knees and comes up under you, prodding at your entrance until he dips inside. You whimper as he stretches you. You’re barely wet yet. You're so dizzy you can’t get into it.

He rams to his limit and you’re back on your toes. You brace the counter as he falls into a rapid motion, pounding against your ass. Flesh slaps loudly as he ruts without restraint, a hand on your hip to keep you from slipping off.

“Slow, please,” you beg through pained huffs, “Cole, you’re hurting--”

He grabs the back of your head and pushes it down, your cheek touching the marble as he rolls his pelvis into you. He hammers until your walls feel ready to split and roars as he empties himself into you. He slows only as the slickness coats you and seeps out around him.

He holds himself as deep as you can take him. You shake and keep one hand over the lip to the counter as you reach with your other between your legs. Ow.

“Was that good?” He exhales.

You shake and extend your arm back to flick him away. He slides out and his cum drips onto the floor between your feet. You stand and cup your cunt as you face him.

“That was... a lot,” you babble.

“Oh,” he seems genuinely shocked, “I’m sorry, honey, I guess I got carried away.”

“Mm, I know but... that was so... different,” you hiss at the rawness in your folds.

“I... I thought you’d like it.”

“I...” you look at him and frown. You don’t want to ever disappoint him. “I did, it’s just... it was so fast.”

“Right,” he lets out a breath, “I can make it up to you. How about tomorrow?”

You smile and nod. He has a business dinner tomorrow. He won’t be home until later, but you know he’ll get to it. When he can.

[black-cat-babe]

Beast Hunter from the tag game!

Fair warning guys this is a very rough draft and I'm still waiting on my editor to clean it up. That being said big fat thanks to sarnakhwritesthings for the ask its a silly little gesture but it really made my day :3

For a tad bit of context what started as a silly little self indulgent character study of a favorite lil blorbo of mine turned into an exploration of the Unknown Regions

Warning ~ looooooooooooooong WIP ahead

The door behind Rebel slid open once more and two smaller figures stepped into the bar, exchanging conversation in what he assumed was galactic basic. The shorter of the two figures walked to the bar and sat next to the helmeted humanoid. Her brightly painted mandalorian armor stood out against the dim gray cantina. She tossed a few cred chips on the bar’s surface and struck up a conversation with the helmeted figure and their cheerful tinkerbear. Her companion, a taller figure with curving black and white striped montrals and long headtails, leaned on the shady wall near the entrance. Her dirty white cloak stood out amongst the darkness. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the room, flicking from table to table, then rested on Rebel. 

Rebel ducked his head and studied the scratches on the table’s surface. A bit of red slime dripped onto his hand. He glanced upwards and a shiver ran down his spine. A long, suckered tentacle hung above his table, slowly retracting into a fleshy reddish-brown body covering the ceiling. Other tentacles hung down around the bar to prepare drinks and collect cred chips while eerily human eyes scattered around the fleshy ceiling scanned the cantina. 

Rebel shuddered and pulled a handful of cred chips from his bag. The long, suckered tentacle fell down from the fleshy ceiling and wrapped around the chips. The slimy appendage pulled the chips upward and passed them onto another tentacle to be stashed behind the bar. After a few moments, the tentacle returned with a pale, bubbly drink. The tentacle set the drink on the table, lingering for a moment while the eye sunk into the fleshy ceiling above stared down at his visitor. The eye glanced away towards the two rowdy doba and the tentacle pulled away from his table.

Rebel lazily stirred the drink with his finger, his eyes wandering towards the colorful mandalorian sitting at the bar. He lifted the drink to his lips watching as the colorful figureg pulled a small holodisk from her belt and set it on the bar’s surface. A fuzzy hologram of a blue-haired human teen filled the small, blue tinted holo. The helmeted figure studied the holo for a moment then shook his head. 

Rebel finished his drink and slid the chipped glass to the edge of the table, tapping the rim twice with his finger. A tentacle lifted the drink from the table and set another full glass in its place. He dropped the last of his cred chips onto the table. 

“His name is Ezra Bridger,” Rebel heard the colorful mandalorian speak in a softer, feminine voice, “he was with another chiss, Thrawn.”

The helmeted figure shook his head once more and muttered an apology through a filtered voice. 

“Are you trying to cheat me?!” a rough voice shrieked as two tentacles shot down from the ceiling and wrapped tightly around rebel’s chest. “Where is the rest of the money?! Are you stealing from me?!”

Rebel blinked as the glass dropped from his hand and the tentacles lifted him out of the booth. “Full fee?” he asked, struggling to shake the alcohol induced haze in his mind. 

A furious scream echoed from the oktos’ fleshy mouth as the tentacles around Rebel’s chest and arms tightened. The cantina fell silent while all eyes and eye-like appendages turned to stare at the commotion. “Pay the full fee,” the oktos bartender rumbled, “or pay with your life. I will not be cheated by a pathetic human!”

“That’s all I’ve got!” Rebel insisted, wincing as pain bloomed in his side. “I payed the full fee!”

The oktos made a low, gutteral growl from its distant mouth and another tentacle shot out to wrap itself around the young man. “You lie!”

 Rebel had heard plenty of stories from smugglers and outsiders about the infamous oktos species and their habit of crushing unlucky victims into a bloody pulp if they felt cheated or taken advantage of. He passed those stories off as rumors, but now–trapped in the clutches of the furious oktos bartender–he wondered why he did not believe the stories.

Oh well, he thought, at least it's a quick way to die.

[snazzynacho]

SOME CALL THEM FREAKS | A stranger things fan fiction

OC1 x Steve, OC2 x Eddie

(kinda a self insert kinda not)

Read on wattpad (recommended)

Masterlist

Character Aesthetic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

in which two daughters of billionaire parents swap their lives for one that's totally upside down.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

NATALIE AND RAMONA VELESLAY

were used to being left out by their billionaire parents.

Their parents, Edwina and Hector, owners of Pepsi, never spent time with their two daughters.

They were always too busy with work meetings or posh dinners with clients and/or friends at their secluded London mansion. Only occasionally dragging them out for a few seconds at the dinners they hosted like they were trophies which collected dust in a cabinet.

This meant Natalie and Ramona were used to having the company of the cheapest nannies or babysitter's their parents could find - not wanting to spend their precious money on their own blood - something that would occur often. Or even a free babysitter - their Grandmother.

Sometimes, they were even left in their Grandmother's room in their mansion. They liked this however because she was very old and loved to tell them her life stories. It was the only time they were shown, love. They loved her so much that they nicknamed her Sweetie.

During their childhood, they were also seemingly locked away from public view. This was just the beginning of the end - the simmering if you will.

The tabloids wondered about them all the time. And their parents never gave in. This seems like a good thing for parents to do right? (Don't get your hopes up.) Not wanting their children to be corrupted by horrible newspapers making up stories about anything and anyone, right? - no. Edwina and Hector only hated the fact their children were getting more attention than them. That's why. Maybe if they weren't keeping them in hiding (from what? Natalie and Ramona could never figure out.) they wouldn't be so talked about.

"What happened to the Veleslay's future heirs?"

"The two youngest Veleslay heirs: missing all these years?"

It wasn't until the children were in their teens that the troubles began. All the resentment that had been simmering since they were little now reached boiling point. Natalie and Ramona started to push boundaries, lashed out and stood up for themselves. Tired of being set aside like they don't even exist.

Did their parents care, you ask? Yes, but not in the way you expect. They only cared in case their "troublesome" behaviour leaked to the papers or happened while they were hosting one of their dinners.

Finally, it bubbled over.

Leaving behind scars.

The two packed their bags once and for all. It's not like they were going to miss two adults with who they merely had a relationship with who were supposed to be their parents. As if they were going to be missed by them anyway. The only piece of family heirlooms they were given were two watches which were made into necklaces by their Grandmother.

They were going to miss their Grandmother but they knew if they told her where they were going and why she'd tell their parents or she'd be too upset for them to look at.

Not knowing where to go, they were sucked into the "America is the best place to live right now!" propaganda so California it was.

365 days later and they're thinking of moving states...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hi, welcome to our stranger things self-insert fan fiction! This is going to be written by myself and my bestie Rogue (I'll tag them soon)

Overall Trigger warnings:

Angst

Fat-shaming

Food

Themes/threats of violence

Sexual references

Assumed 'cheating'

Bullying

Typical 80s homophobia

Billy Hargrove

Parental neglect/abuse

Ableism

At the beginning of each chapter, there will be TWs of topics that are featured in those specific chapters, but if you don't want to read a chapter with those TWs then we will write a TLDR at the end of each chapter to read instead!

(The first chapter should be published soon)

DEDICATION:

• Fans of stranger things who make up scenarios about the characters/about themselves being in the show in their head lol

• Steve Harrington stans

• Eddie Munson stans

• Argyle stans bc he's underrated (and you will see him in this don't worry)

• Robin x Nancy shippers (I mean come on their ship name is literally Ronance... Like romance...Argue to the wall. If you don't like it leave.)

• Lovers of the miscommunication and right person wrong time trope

• Grammarly for always having my back 💅

And last but not least my bestie Rogue for helping to create this with me ‼️🫶🤭💅✨😌

(yes our characters are based on us and mine have the same name but the name thing might change in the future but I'm not sure yet)

All stranger things characters and plots and brands we use such as Pepsi and/or Coca Cola were not made by us.

The only characters we made were Natalie and Ramona and their family.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

WE HOPE YOU ENJOY THE BOOK!! Thank you :)

@snazzynacho

All rights reserved.

Stranger things 2-4 fan fic/self insert kinda (OC1 x Steve, OC2 x Eddie)

Disclaimer: there are no face claims for Natalie and Ramona. I just couldn't find any I liked...maybe that will change in the future, but for now just use your imagination.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Started writing: January 2023

Finished: Ongoing

(Chapters should be coming soon)

[tteokdoroki]

SHE’S MY FAVOURITE GIRL. | K.BAKUGOU.

OCT 29TH. KATSUKI BAKUGOU + POSSESIVE SEX.

KINKTOBER M.LIST. / M.LIST. / TAGLIST. / KOFI.

ৎ୭ synopsis. your best friend’s girlfriend doesn’t like you, but can you really blame her? i mean, you’re perfect ! pretty, smart, likeable and you have her boyfriend wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

ৎ୭ wc. 12222.

ৎ୭ genre. mdni, 18+, smut, dark content, college!au.

ৎ୭ cw. please read ! heavy smut, characters aged up to twenties, fem!reader, best friend!bakugou, spit!kink, slight!manipulation,  dub-con, cheating, thigh-riding, handjobs, cherry chasing, recording, cumplay,  tummy bulges, possesive sex, unprotected sex. not proof read, beware of errors.

ৎ୭ author’s note. happy friday everyone!! ah!! my final day of kinktober! i’d like to thank everyone who read and were excited for my fics, it’s honestly been really fun taking part in kinktober this year and hopefully i’ll join the next! i guess you could call this the grand finale, until the mikey fic comes along, but for now thank you and please enjoy <3 ( also i finished writing this at 6am today so i apologise if it’s riddled with typos !! )

ৎ୭ now playing. tonight - doja cat ft eve.

katsuki bakugou’s been your best friend since as long as you can remember.

your mothers had always been close, kept in contact after they graduated and reunited when word spread they’d be having babies around the same time. katsuki, of course, came first— nothing could ever beat him and you always followed, popping out just months later.

just like your parents, you went through everything together. took your first bubble bath side by side, learned to crawl in unison— stood tall and walked in tune with one another. you’d punched out bakugou’s first wobbly tooth in first grade and he’d comforted you after you cried on your first day of school.

you were completely and utterly inseparable.

joined at the hip, you picked each other for every team in middle school and studied together for every honours class test in high school and when crushes came into play, bakugou never once looked away from you. ‘why the fuck would i need other girls when i have you?’ he’d say, lips pulled into a toothy smirk, vermillion eyes bright and mischievous as he’d try to shove whatever spicy hellish concoction he’d made for his bento that day, down your throat.

and gradually, whenever katsuki looked at you, a warm feeling would blossom in your chest— he made you feel like the only girl in the world, like you were his favourite girl.

people always told you how cute you were together, katsuki bakugou and his sweet little girlfriend yn...and you’d believe them. doodled his name in every one of your notebooks, hearts over the ‘i’ and your future children’s names scrawled in loopy font underneath. there was no one more perfect for your best friend than well...you.

except bakugou didn’t seem to think that way, not when moves halfway across the country for a college that you guys had never even talked about. your best friend left you behind but you would be fine, there were facetime calls and text messages and 3AM movie nights over discord while you both half awake and stealing glances at one another until one of you drifted off first. your best, your katsuki...he would tell you stories of the guys he’d met at the dorm, the ones he’d tell to back off while they tried to flirt with you over call. he would ask about your day, your classes— tell you that he was so proud of his girl and the praise always shot right to your tummy. the praise would make you touch yourself after your screens went dark and you were alone in your dorm with his name on your lips.

katsuki, katsuki, katsuki.

you’d chant his name like he was yours, like he was the one making you feel good and not the tiny fingers you have stuffed in your little cunt. you think of him when you cum, when you fall asleep, when you wake up in the morning… and maybe you’re a little obsessed...but after all, he’s all you’ve ever known. in your mind, bakugou was yours, he was always yours.

until he wasn’t. until he was hers.

“i’ve met someone,” the blonde mumbles to you on call one night, he’s sheepish and embarrassed— something that katsuki rarely ever expresses so you know he’s being serious. immediately your heart sinks, jealousy and anger curling around your beating heart and blackening it—how dare he? who is she? you and katsuki were made for each other, college wasn’t supposed to change that. and if your best friend sees your face twist into a frown, he doesn’t say anything about it. “she’s sweet, got a feelin’ yer gonna like her.”

you won’t, you already don’t.

you hate whoever the hell she is.

and katsuki sees that written all over your face, in the downturned corners of your glossed lips and the crinkle between your eyebrows. “she’s great,” he tries again, tries to reassure you because he hates seeing you upset and hates being the cause of it even more. “i promise.”

there’s no way she compares to you, she couldn’t be greater than you. “‘m sure she is.”

“yer upset with me, aren’cha?” the blonde asks you, clearly worried as his lips pull into a frown and you remember the sense of pride shooting through your veins at making him feel guilty. bakugou deserved that, especially after choosing some girl over you. “don’t be—“

“‘m not,” you say back, rolling your eyes and putting on a disinterested act just to vy for more of bakugou’s attention— you want his eyes on you and only you, not the bitch who’s swiped him from right underneath your nose. your lips push into a pout as you look away from the screen, shrugging your shoulders into the cool night while your childhood best friend rubs a hand over his face, clearly apologetic for having to break the news to you this way.

“c’mon angel, yn, look at me...don’t be fuckin’ mad, okay? don’t deny it either, already know that’cha are,” bakugou coos, rough as he leans into his shit-quality facetime and presents you with his furrowed brows and darling ruby gen eyes that you love so much. “you’re always gonna be my favourite girl, okay?”

you can’t help the smile that curls on your lips. “mkay,” you say in a quiet babyish voice and relief floods your best friend’s face. “do you promise?”

“pinky fuckin’ promise.”

but as it turns out, bakugou had lied.

his girlfriend wasn’t as great as he’d made out to be— in fact she was worse. her name doesn’t come up in the conversations the two of you have over your weekly calls but you manage to pull the handles of her social media accounts from between the loose lips of katsuki’s roommate— kirishima, with the promise of a few lewd videos and a chance for him to hook up with you. the red head’s chance with you wouldn’t come however, since you intended to save yourself only for the blonde with the firm, iron hot grip on your heart and all feelings for him replaced any guilt you had for manipulating kirishima the way you did.

nonetheless, ochako uraraka is the name he gives you and you decide that she’s nowhere near bakugou’s type. ‘yer gonna love her,’ is what you remember him telling you as you scroll through her instagram accounts— you hate her, is what you think. the girl is try hard, she wants to be cute but she looks annoying— she takes bakugou on dates you know he would hate, makes stupid comments about the stuff he loves that she dislikes, forces him to try foods you know he would turn his nose up at when he was back home with you. you pick at everything you can about her and try to convince your best friend that he’s making a terrible mistake but no matter what you say it’s always; ‘jus give her a chance, y’gotta warm up to her,’ and ‘i really like her, you will too.’

and you can’t, you won’t, you refuse. you refuse to acknowledge ochako as anything close to perfect for katsuki, no matter how hard he tries because you’re the one for him, you’re perfect for him and in your books she simply didn’t make the cut.

it’s not like ochako adored you either, the first time you’d met her guard was up miles high despite the sweet smile she’d given you in the presence of your best friend— and it’s not like you could blame her, in katsuki’s eyes, you appeared flawless… a vision of what a woman by his side should look like and that bothered her.

it bothered her to the point where she would try to sabotage your friendship with her boyfriend whatever chance she got— pretending to like your silly childhood games, kissing him when she was sure you were looking, prematurely ending the nights in which you hung out with bakugou by strategically placing a hand on his thigh and mumbling dirty words into his earn until his cheeks turned pink and he was rushing away with her. she was coming between you and your best friend and you hated it.

you hated her.

so you made sure of it, at your next visit to katsuki you’d win him back and remind him of who his favourite girl really was.

“s-she hates me suki! she...s-she said i wasn’t good enough to be your friend!”

you hiccup your way through practiced words as bakugou locks the door to his frat house’s mancave— crossing the room in three short strides to be right by your side again. with soft hands, you cling to his toned arms and squeeze them beneath your grip, pressing yourself impossibly closer to your best friend. tears stream down your cheeks— fat droplets of saltine liquid clumped in your pretty lashes while you cling to him, small sniffles echoing through the room and just barely heard over the thumping bass of the music outside.

katsuki’s face, aged like fine wine over the years— ruby stone set eyes softening, falls flat at the sight of you so distraught and upset. it kills him inside to see you cry.

it hurts him more than a punch to the gut.

false waterworks and a wobbling bottom lip were all it took to get katsuki bakugou alone and away from the welcome party he’d thrown in your honour. the stardust sparkles in your watering eyes causing an unexplainable tightness in his chest, enough for him to pull you into the nearest empty room to comfort you. it’s not like you had lied about your reason for tearing up anyways— just moments before your best friend’s girlfriend, ochako, and her equally annoying buddy, mina, had cornered you in the hallway to confront you.

“you should go for hanta, or denki or maybe even eijirou. he really likes you,” the brunette had told you, swirling her solo cup of booze as her gaze swept over you. “so long as you back off of katsuki,”

you’d grinned with faux innocence, pushing yourself off of the wall the two girls had backed you up against to invade her personal space. “you’re sweet ‘chako!” you had squealed, revelling in her offended expression as you latched onto her as if you were best buds. “thanks but no thanks! all eiji knows is ass and good pussy. which you have neither of. my eyes are on suki.”

ochako had glared and grunted, stumbling back to get rid of you. “that wasn’t an offer,” came her snappy response. “you’re too clingy, too childish for him. katsuki wants a real woman.”

thinking of the bitch’s words only makes you angrier, makes you act harder to draw sympathy from katsuki so you can execute your plan of revenge. you were going to show her, show him— that you were just as much of a woman as ochako was and that he’d been making a huge mistake just by being with her. “she said i was too immature, that she’d get rid of me,” you blubber, jutting out your lower lip even more. “you won’t do that, right suki?” your acting could be a gift from god, an oscar winning performance one might say. you could tell by the unhappy twitch of bakugou’s frown— deeper, harder, that you’ve got him in a chokehold of guilt.

“fuck, y’really torn up about this huh, angel?” bakugou sighs, thick brows knitted together. you almost laugh, the sound coming out as a light gasp— like you would let ochako hurt your feelings. she had absolutely nothing on you. you were katsuki’s sun stars and moon, she would see that shortly. he moves towards the door, reaching for the handle. “i’ll go ‘n talk to her.”

“no!” you huff shortly, gripping him tighter and tugging your best friend over to the couch in the corner of the room— the route you’ve planned in your head and the final destination katsuki’s lap. “want you to stay, can you help me feel better, suki?” he looks to you as if he doesn’t know what to think, but how can he say no to you? he never can, not when you’ve been by his side your whole life and put his needs before your own. you throw him down onto the couch in one swift move, slotting yourself into his lap just like you would when you were back home— testing katsuki’s limits before your plan comes into play.

he accepts you at first, nodding his head with a warm hand rubbing on your back. hugs don’t count as cheating right? bakugou thinks. he couldn’t think to keep you at arms length, not when you were so warm— not when you were the sweetest person he’d ever met crying over a fight with his girlfriend. he’s conflicted, he knows he should be out there with ochako but you’re his best friend, you would do the same for him...right?

distracted by his thoughts and his seemingly endless list of problems brewing between his girlfriend and his best friend— katsuki almost doesn’t notice the way you slowly start to grind against his thigh, your chubby cheek pressed against his heartbeat to muffle the small whimpers gathered in your glossed lips and wet tongue. almost.

bakugou, before anything else, is a hormonal college boy— turned on at the slightest feeling or scent of good pussy. you know he won’t be able to resist you and the warmth of your sweet folds as they brush over his rough jeans, the beginning of your arousal sinking through the black denim fabric. you know that he couldn’t say no despite the dig of his rough fingertips into your supple waist— hormones clouding the red rhinestones in his irises when you pull back from his chest to look at him. “h-hey...hey! the fuck are you doin’ brat?” the blonde curses despite the pillow cushion to his words, he’s never harsh with you, he doesn’t want to upset you. your hips shift against katsuki’s thigh just right and your smaller-than-his fingers sink into his right arm in a tight grip as you cry his name. “fuckin’ stop with that!”

bottom lip wobbling, your face crumples and so does katsuki’s. he doesn’t want to see you cry, even if you grinding down against the meat of his muscled thighs is wrong, even if it drives him insane to feel your needy hole clench around against him. “w-what? what’s the matter ka’suki?” your words are let out with a faux whimper, faking your hurt until you make it. anything to get the plan to ruin his stupid little relationship going. “you don’ wanna help me? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?”

you know just what to say, after all no one knows bakugou better than you— it just makes manipulating him way too easy. “what? no? the fuck are you on ‘bout?” katsuki struggles to get out, large hands attempting to push you off again while his thighs tell a different story, flexing the right one beneath your cunt, holding back a groan when your whole body shudders and your pretty eyes cross. “‘course i wanna help you angel, jus’ not like this. got a girlfriend now—“

“but you promised!” you sigh, putting on a bit more of a show now that you know you have your best friend’s attention. your fingers dance down towards the hem of your skirt, hips never stopping their straddled dance over katsuki’s thigh. “you said you’d help me feel better, ‘m your best friend suki, you want me to feel better right?” your tone is accusing with your facial expression innocent to match— you tug your skirt up, pinching the fabric between two fingers to reveal your naked pussy, rosy and puffy lips spread open against his jeans with a glisten as you leave a wet patch in your wake of grinding.

“fuck, i did...yeah i fuckin’ did,” bakugou sighs hotly and leans back into the couch, his large hands swallowing your thighs as if he wants to keep them spread— hazy eyes trained on the way your clit becomes swollen and bumps his thigh with every rut of your precious hips to get yourself off. “but angel,” he almost whines. “my girlfriend…”

grinning, you take his hands from your thighs and guide them slowly across the expanse of your body. “e‘nough ‘bout ochako,” you say, sliding his palms across your tummy, fingers feather light as they walk up your rib cage, squeeze your thighs again before brushing roughly under the swell of your breasts— calloused pads of his finger tips tweaking your nipple from under your shirt, as you’d forgone a bra too. “she’s not more important to you than me, right katsuki?”

you say his full name this time, the three syllables hanging onto the gloss that coats your lips and only briefly pulling his gaze away from your sticky cunt and catching your best friend’s attention. his thigh twitches at the sight of you, top pushed up over your breast and skirt lifted just so he can get a peek at the fruit in eve’s garden, and like the story goes the snake in his ear is telling bakugou to take a bite out of you and what you gave to offer.

bouncing his thigh against your blossoming cunt, bakugou breathes his next words. “never, fuckin’ never.”

in victory, your arms wrap around bakugou’s neck for support before you begin to lift and drop your hips slowly against his leg as he gives it the momentum it needs to watch your pretty cunt cum. “then help me forget how mean she was to me, kay?” you use a faux timid tone, grinding down in your friends lap with a front row seat to the blonde losing his sanity over how shiny your sweet slit has become just from humping him.

“f-fuck, okay angel, okay...” he rasps nervously, hands finding your hips again to grind you along. “whaddya need?” bakugou’s eyes don’t dare to tear away from your mound, watching it wetly glide across his leg and you swear you see his eyes, vermillion in colour, roll back as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “jesus…” he adds, flexing his leg again and only looking up when you simper his name and your slit drools just that little bit more.

your body is wracked with a set of trembles as heat starts to boil between your thighs, adding to the strings of slick that tie you down to katsuki’s. “need you to touch me,” you speak, your voice just as shaky as the rest of you while you rut against bakugou to your heart’s content. “gonna take off my shirt, okay? t-then my skirt. want you to see how good you make me feel, suki.”

dangerous blood red eyes shimmer with something you’ve never seen in them before— you can tell just by looking into them that katsuki wants you in so many ways, more than just you being his best friend and his sudden desire for you makes the fire in your lower belly burn brighter. the sight of him like this, eye-level with you, you in his lap while his cheeks grow tinted with berry red and flush under the neon simmering of LED lights only serves to make slick pool beneath you— destroying his pants with your arousal, katsuki looks desperate for a taste of you, adam’s apple bobbing as his dazed gaze flicking from your face to your puffy folds, exposed to the room’s chilly air.

he’s pussy whipped already and hasn’t even had the best of you yet.

the blonde practically whimpers as you pull away from him to take of your shirt, a soft curse falling from between his chapped lips as you throw it into the abyss of the room— the fabric seemingly taking his feelings of guilt towards ochako with him, for his hands scarred and calloused settle on the bare fat of your waist to help pull you along, dragging you by your ankle tot the high heavens of pleasure, burning pads of his fingers sinking into your supple flesh. “fuck, have y’always been this fuckin’ soft?” your best friend muses, brows creased and cock swelling beneath his jeans.

you’re sly, like a vixen prowling through the forest and katsuki is the prey that can’t escape the grip your sharp teeth and claws have on him. “yeah suki,” comes your sweet sigh, leaning forward in his grip until your nose bumps his chin, until your lips are a breath’s width apart. “you like touching me, right? i’ve always wanted you to touch me like this,”

“jesus fuck, baby,” katsuki bleats weakly, swallowing thick and you feel his chest vibrate with a shaky breath from your proximity to him. for a moment, he hesitates, the thoughts in his brain trying to decide between right and wrong, between his girlfriend and his best friend before he takes the plunge and slides a hand beneath your skirt to pull at your peachy ass— the other wrestling with the clasp of your bra, making you grin in victory. “yeah...fuck yeah, love touchin’ you like this...f-fuck, i can’t believe ‘m doin this,” he slurs but mirrors your smile as he pulls your bra away and tosses it away to join your lost shirt. “y’fuckin’ pretty baby, you...you know that right?”

of course you, you know that you— you’ve always been his type, why couldn’t he see that?

your nipples pebble once they hit the cold air and instead of giving him a response, you let your fingers tangle in the softness of his blonde hair and pull bakugou down to your chest. “show me, tell me how pretty you think i am,” your voice is soft, breathless as you glide across his thigh, despite the edgy command you give him and bakugou listens like the little pervert he’s become— before you know it, the heat of his sweltering mouth encapsulates your nipple and his pink tongue runs circles over your areola, tasting the light perspiration on your skin as he grunts softly against it. “o-oh! ka’suki!” you cry, fingers tightening their hold on his hair.

slurping noises shoot through the air, forming their tune in harmony with your entticng moans, airy light and ringing through bakugou’s ears. he can’t help but fall for the way you sound— delirious with arousal as he guides you back and forth over his leg, growing so rough that your clit occasionally bumps the curve of his knee, growing bold enough to grind it against you and make you squeal, force you to gush, anything. he just needs a reaction from you to soothe the aching throb to his fat cock. “god, yer tits are just as pretty as the rest of ya, so fucking pretty, so fucking—” the boy’s voice is muffled as you force his mouth onto your unattended breast, breath hitching as his teetth sink into the supple mound from shock or maybe even from revenge as you practically manhandle him and manipulate him to pleasure you at your will.

“shut up, katsuki,” you grunt impatiently but keep your voice innocent, face contorting with bliss as he follows your lead, sucking and biting at your breast while his calloused hand squeezes at the other. “o-oh! just like that— like that! y’gonna make me cum like that ‘suki!” bakugou looks up at you wide-eyed and hungry, seeming perfectly content with his mouth full of your tits and his thigh coated in the essence that bleeds from your pretty pussy as you circle your hips over him needily. he can’t help but wonder what you look like when you’re close to tipping off of the edge, can't help but wonder whether your cherry bitten lips will push into a pout or if they’ll fall open as you moan from deep within your chest— if your nose will scrunch and your eyelids will flutter just as much as your creamy cunt.

bakugou doesn’t have to wait much longer for his lack of patience and brash approach to everything has him swiping his thumb eagerly across your clit— stringing you along the path to your orgasm as a tight knot builds within your lower tummy. your body reacts to his touch, making him hum against your salvia stained breasts while you start to shake, struggling to even make one stroke of your hips over his thighs and fisting more and more locks of his sun-kissed hair between your trembling fingers.

“you like that?” bakugou hums observantly, his mouth letting go of your breast with a pop, tracks of his own drool running down his chin— you nod your head, picking up the pace of your hips just to make yourself cum to the point where you’re practically bouncing on katsuki’s thigh, pretty tits swaying in his face and activating a predatory look in the flecks of his red rouge eyes. “yeah y’fuckin do baby, holy shit...everythin’ ‘bout you is s’fuckin’ perfect, could watch you all day, let you use me all day. jus’ wanna see you cum, angel…” he drawls on and on, drawing roughly cut shapes into your puffy clit, groaning at the sight of your pillowy folds and the strings of slick leaking from between them as they connect you to his thigh messily. “wanna watch y’come apart just like this, c’mon you can do it, fuck angel, fuck…”

and if it weren’t for that bitch, ochako uraraka...maybe his words could come true.

“katsuki! ‘m gonna...gonna— !” but it’s hard to focus on hating her for stealing away your katsuki when he’s making you cum like a bitch in heat all over his thigh. the neon lights reflect in your teary eyes as your best friend pushes you head first into an orgasm, the pressure building up in the pits of your stomach unwinding faster than you can register as a stream of clear liquid gushes from your heated mound. “‘hmygod, ‘suki...don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your eyes cross and thighs lock around bakugou’s hand but he can’t bring himself to pull it away from your cute little cunt as the circles on your swollen nub grow tighter and tighter, pulling more yet tinier spirts of your release out of you until you can barely breathe. he watches you eagerly, taking in the sight of your skin shining with sweat under the gentle hum of the LED lighting in the room along with your soft lip caught between your teeth and the tiny, shaky whimpers you let out.

bakugou could just cum from the sight of you alone, the view of you swaying and dizzy from cumming for him, making his cock stir in his pants. you collapse against your best friend’s chest until the world stops spinning, letting the scent of him bring you back down to earth and put the objects in the room back in their place. “holy shit, angel. did y’just fuckin’ squirt f’me?” he asks tenderly, pulling his fingers from between your messy thighs and cursing under his breath when he spreads them apart and watches the slick separate with them.

“mhm, was all for you katsuki,” lazily, you smile and attempt to shimmy off your now ruined skirt— making a b-line for the hem of katsuki’s shirt next, pushing it up to reveal his golden skin and perfectly carved abs. “you can taste me if you like,” your voice acts like silk running through his ears as you let go of his shirt, giggling at the crease of curiosity between bakugou’s brows as you push his fingers towards his mouth and force them inside. he makes a muffled noise of surprise but a fire lights up amongst the almost brown flecks in his ruby gem eyes at the taste of your sweet nectar against his tongue. “am i sweet, suki?” you add huskily.

he nods slowly, looking at you like a child who’s been given candy while cleaning off his fingers quickly, hungrily as if your cum is laced with some kind of additive— he can feel himself growing addicted. “so sweet baby, s’good,” he mumbles, letting you tear through his shirt.

“i want you to have more of me, katsuki, don’t you want more of me?” you coo innocently, hands that could only be dwarfed by bakugou, dancing down his frame on the path towards his zipper before he stops you. wide eyed, you look at him and cock your head in mock confusion, bottom lip jutting out as you prepare for a fake display of tears. “w-what’s wrong?”

“ochako, i—” katsuki tells you as if he’s had a sudden epiphany, realising where he is and what he’s doing and trying to push you off. he’s never been a cheater, he’d always thought he could be loyal but all it took was one bat of your eyelids up at him and he was feasting on the sight of your rosy, saccharine pussy as if it were his last meal... what the fuck was katsuki bakugou doing? he didn’t need to fuck you to make you feel better, he didn’t need to fuck you at all— not with his girlfriend waiting for him outside. his face is stricken with guilt when he looks at you, but not for cheating on ochako, not for hurting her...but for you and your pouty lips and your bambi eyes that reel him back in and remind him that you could never be second place. not to ochako, not to anyone. “should be gettin’ back to her, think we’ve gone too far here.”

hearing her name fall from his lips after the little show you’d put on for katsuki fills you with rage, tingling from the top of your head right down to your toes and you huff like a petulant child, smaller-than-his hand shooting out to grab him by his growing erection before he can leave. “but you should be with me!” you whinge, squeezing katsuki’s bulge from over his pants, fighting the genuine tears in your eyes, unable to believe that his stupid girlfriend has the one up on you. “she’s been so mean to me and you let her, katsuki! you should be here, making it up to me,”

“but angel—”

you shake your head, furiously working your way through bakugou’s jeans and boxers as you sniff away saltine tears. “but no!” a small smirk crossing your lips at the hiss your best friend lets out when your soft palm comes into contact with his half-hard erection. “you’re mine, you’re my best friend and i’m supposed to be your favourite! ‘m not letting her take you away from me.”

a response lays meekly on bakugou’s lips as he spreads his tongue across them, he should try harder to fight you off and snap you out of your senses, tell you that you can’t do this—that he can’t do this but he’s already revelling in the way you start to palm him as you tug him free from his clothes. your hand is cushioned as it runs from the base of his dick to his achy tip, milky white cascading down katsuki’s length and catching on his throbbing veins that stand at attention— and fuck you’re so good at this, using your fingers to swipe at the precum beading from your best friend’s slit, pushing your thumb into it just to see his body come alive with shivers. your eyes stay trained on his face, memorising every twitch and parting of his lips from how good you make him feel whenever you squeeze him or speed up the pace of your hand.

you’re so fucking good, so good that he starts to forget all about her.

soon enough, katsuki’s body melts into yours and he’s tugging you further into his lap by the ass as if it’s second nature— it feels right to have you straddling his thick thighs as he man-spreads them wide , even better to pull you close by the back of your neck and let his strawberry tongue roll over the seams of your cherry lips to taste the gloss there and he grows eager to taste more of you, have all of you— hungrier for your touch more than he ever was for ochako’s. you can feel your sense of desire growing too—the speed of your hand that pumps katsuki getting faster and faster until lewd and wet noises twist within the heavy, lustful air between you both, his cock dribbling endless amounts of his essence and painting your knuckles with shades of his incoming release.

bakugou’s world becomes centred around you, your name heavy on his tongue—viscous and filling his mouth like honey until he’s drowning in a pool of ecstasy and dragging you down with him. “the way ya touch my cock, fuck angel. just like fuckin’ that, you’re doin’ so good you might just make me cum…you want that? want my fuckin’ cum?” the words slip out before his brain can register what he’s saying or who he’s saying it to, letting you take control of his pleasure as your tiny hands squeeze at his heavy balls— the pair of them working his angry shaft, bright red and fiery at the tip. in fact, bakugou doesn’t care that he’s dirty talking you instead of his girlfriend, at least not in the moment— thrusting himself into the slick warmth of your hands and pathetically using them as his own personal fleshlight, leaking onto the couch beneath your clammy bodies he doesn’t fucking care.

because ochako has never been as bold in the bedroom as you have on this very night, ochako has never made him feel this good.

“i want you to cum for me so badly, suki! i’ve always dreamed of what it was like,” you coo sweetly against his lips, pressing your body flush against bakugou’s so he can feel every bounce of your tits against his naked chest from where his erratic thrusts into your gentle grip make you jolt up and down— your nipples brushing against his to make him hiss. “always wondered about how you might taste,” your voice is breathy while you slot your mouth against his, humming as they fit together perfectly, swapping spit messily while katsuki tugs on your waist and your hair to manhandle you into the perfect position, just the way he wants. “how it might feel to be covered in all your cum,”

“shit, yer fuckin’ filthy, ‘chako would never say nasty shit like that,” bakugou let’s out a colourful stream of curses when you pull away, connected by strings of your exchanged spit— cupids’ bows wet from your searing kisses. “makes me wanna ruin ya, makes me wanna fuck you s’bad,” your heart flutters with pride at how willing your best friend is to give into the sin and adultery you’ve offered up for him despite the fact that the handjob you’re giving him is a one way ticket to the gates of heaven— that’s just how good you feel. you relish the yelp of surprise katsuki let’s out when you dribble your shared saliva down into his painfully hard shaft, letting it mix with his constant flow of thick precum. he groans from deep within the pits of his chest, the seed of arousal sprouting and wrapping its vines around his rib cage until filthy praises blossom in your best friend’s mouth, whispers of ‘just like that,’ and ‘fuck angel, so fuckin’ good to me,’ and ‘ain’t never had it like this,’ laid out across your skin from where he’s buried his face into your neck.

if it weren’t for your bodies being so close, you might not have heard his praise over the raunchy, damp sounds of his balls hitting your closed fist— katsuki fucking your hand as if it were your pretty cunt, languidly thrusting into your grip and chasing his own release. his world his hazy, blurry, with you as his only grounding focus, with you being the only thing on his fucking mind. he whimpers needily into your skin and only pulls back for air, the need written across his face in pink ink that’s flushed against his cheeks— the shade almost rivalling his blissful ruby orbs that flutter every time you fondle his balls.

you can’t help but grin, tilting katsuki’s chin up to kiss him again before you circle his blazing, sticky cockhead with your thumb. “i’m so much better than ochako, suki, i’m everythin’ you’ll ever need,” you say cutely and airily, grinning wider especially when katsuki nods his head eagerly, letting you guide him to his high. “isn’t that right, suki?”

his adam’s apple bobs, vermillion eyes watering and fuck he looks even prettier than you imagined— the sight of katsuki with his head thrown back against the couch and his mouth hanging open, saliva weighty on his tongue while sweat beads at his hairline and his hips jump up and up into your heavenly hand. “y’gonna make me cum angel, fuckin’ make me cum, make me cum,” he growls roughly into the hot air, the sweat running down his neck illuminated by the buzz of the LED lights. the sight creates a pleasant fizz in your brain, committed to memory as you tug on his fat cock harder, faster. “please, ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum so hard baby, don’cha want it?”

bakugou barely feels shameless for begging his best friend to cum, dopamine rattling around in his brain, heart thumping against his rib cage as you rub him off, spitting on his cock again and making every so much wetter, making it so much harder for him to hold off his orgasm.

“say it.” you seethe in his direction, never slowing down the speed of your hand. “tell me that i’m better than her and i’ll let you cum, kay?” you’re bold enough to reach down and slap his balls, coaxing your best friend towards his high, while his alluring and dangerously addictive moans shoot out into the air. bakugou’s head shakes along with the rest of his body, eyes screwing shut while his hips chase your teasing fingers that press down on the forked blue vein wrapped around his cock every time his hips pull back and out of the warmth of your hand. you can’t decide if his telling you no, or if he’s trying to fight his body’s instincts to chase it’s high, but you repeat the action, slapping down on his heavy balls again to make his entire frame jolt. “say it.”

katsuki pants, letting go of your hips to run a hand through his sex mussed locks as his eyes snap open to lock into yours. “you’re so much fuckin’ better than her, could never make me cum like this, only you angel, only fucking you. god, fuck—!” he babbles brainlessly, barely holding onto his last threads of sanity.

“cum f’me, katsuki,” you command the blonde gently, with one last squeeze of your messy hand to his pulsating dick as it pistons through your closed fist.

your whispered words are all bakugou needs before his entire body is overcome with a set of trembles and you don’t dare to stop the flick of your wrist around his cock as he tumbles through the rush of his high, struggling to keep up with you as colours run wild behind his crystallised red eyes. curse words and praises alike line his lips, katsuki moaning your name haughty and loud enough that you almost fear that people will hear you both from outside— his head drops to the back of the couch, chest heaving as his hips stumble and give out, releasing thick ropes of white hot cum onto your sex tainted knuckles and hand, only adding further to the sweaty glaze coating both of your bodies. the soft, incomplete whimpers that leave your best friend make you smile wickedly, evilly as he comes down from his mind-blowing high.

oh ochako ururaka, if only you could see your boyfriend now.

if only you could see what a real woman does to him.

“fuck baby, that was…” bakugou lifts his head, golden and scarred skin shining with sweat as he looks to you, only cutting himself off with a low groan to watch you suck the cum from your fingers before you lean over his twitching frame to spit his own release back into his mouth. the blonde swallows diligently, cupping the back of your head with a large hand before you can pull away and kissing you sloppily, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth so the both of you can share his taste, moaning at it in unison. “that was fuckin amazin’, you really are a filthy little minx aren’cha, angel?”

you nod bashfully, sidling further up katsuki’s lap until you’re positioned just over his sensitive cock— feeling the remains of his orgasm against your needy cunt that’s already dripping wet from pleasuring him. “s’all for you katsuki, s’always been for you,” you tell him, looking down at the blonde with hooded eyes while experimentally grinding your soft mound over his softening dick, waiting for a reaction or for him to push you off. “been saving myself for you, for years, wanted you to have all of me my first time, suki.” you add earnestly while his rough fingers draw contrastingly soft shapes into the soft swell of your doughy thigh.

you’re met with the complete opposite of what you expected, instead of shoving you away and telling you ‘enough was enough,’ bakugou suddenly grips the meat of your thighs to keep you hooked over his lap— looking at you with a new and lustful fire burning between the flecks of his eyes. “yer…yer a virgin?” he asks quietly, the both of you sucking in a breath as his sticky, cum-stained length twitches to life beneath your awaiting pussy.

you nod again, head tilting back when katsuki begins to grind up into you slowly. “o-ochako said i wasn’t…w-wasn’t woman enough for…for you,” you swallow thickly, the blonde’s tip bumping your clit as blood starts to rush to it and your pussy blossoms for him like a flower. “wanted you to make me one…”

“fuck,” he rasps, gaze dropping to watch the show beneath your shaking bodies, hardening cock pushing through your puffy folds and milky cockhead rutting against your fluttering hole. katsuki’s finger’s reach between the sweltering heat between you both, using two of his digits to keep his dick in line with honey glazed folds, shining with the reminisce of your last orgasm. using your wetness, bakugou is able to slide through your sex easily, shaking moans tumbling from between his bitten lips every time he hits your clit, desperately gripping his cock every time he shoots up too far and his tip nudges your soft tummy, smearing it with opaque white. “we should wait...we... we should talk ‘bout this,”

you grind back down on him, keeping the blonde nestled between swollen and pink folds, a pout forming on your lips. “don’t wanna,”

“neither do fuckin’ i,” comes bakugou’s gruff response, it’s whispered against your blemished shoulder, tainted with light scars from your childhood days and beauty marks alike as his buff arms wrap around your middle to keep you pinned down to him. both of you are seconds away from the tipping point, well past the boundary of what separates best friends from lovers— either of your minds growing murky and foggy, while your breathing tingles at each other’s lips while you sloppily grind against each other. you can feel his hips jumping beneath yours, dying to push his cock past your soaking entrance in one swift movement, but katsuki attempts to slow his roll, wanting your first time to be special. ochako is no longer a thought in his mind, replacing all visions of her with thoughts of you— wanting to fuck you, to be tucked away into your tight heat. “god, angel, wanna fuck you so bad,”

your eyes sparkle with a certain sense of triumph at bakugou’s words…you’ve won him over, got him bending over backwards from the slightest bump of his tip against your resisting entrance— barely prepared to take him and the thickness of his shaft. “please ‘suki, need you...want you,” you murmur against the blonde’s hairline, relishing in the way he pulls back ever so slightly to tap his weighty girth against your awaiting and fluttering slit.

slowly but surely, bakugou starts to push his cock into you, gritting his teeth as he huffs into the junction between your shoulder and neck— holding back his whimpers and urge to thrust as he slides into your warmth, not wanting to cause you anymore pain. “‘m sorry baby, ‘m sorry, you know don’t like hurtin’ya,” he mumbles apologies into your skin, hating the way you his at his intrusion, quickly filling you up like you’ve never been before. it’s like his own personal hell, being stuffed inside your cute virgin cunt, walls pulsing around him rhythmically and slowly sucking down every inch of katsuki’s swollen and aching cock— you take him so well despite the pain, making it harder to resist the urge to pound into you.

you’re so pretty on top of him, so cute with your pouty lips and teary eyes and bakugou suddenly finds himself wondering why he didn’t do this sooner, why he settled for anything less than you.

“move, please move,” you pull katsuki back by the air, cupping his face soon after to pull his bottom lip down with your thumb— the hot air between your bodies is teaming with lust and years worth of desire finally being unleashed, your cunt readily accepting your best friend’s dick as it oozes against your insides and spreads the flame of desire through your sweet cunt. “you feel so much better t-than all my toys ka’suki, always thought of you when i used them on myself,” you confess dreamily, tight hole growing slippery with your heightening arousal, letting bakugou press on until he’s reached the hilt inside of you. “you can fuck me, i want you.. l-love you—!”

the tail end of your words because hushed and breathless when katsuki jolts up and deeper into your cunt at your words— scratching the itch in your gummy walls that only he can reach. you love him and he loves the way your squishy, precious pussy wraps around him so perfectly, barely letting bakugou pull out enough to start a proper pacing to his hips. “love you baby, y’my best friend...fuckin’ love you angel,” he babbles to you, looking up at you with hormone raging red eyes as you toy with his lips, pulling it back again as you lean close making you chest to chest. “fuck, y’so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin tight…” forehead’s pressed, bakugou’s eyes flutter shut expecting you to kiss him but instead is met with the gift of saliva to let drip onto his tongue from your own mouth. his entire body shudders violently, swallowing your glob of spit quickly before he leans up to slot your lips together— using this moment of distraction to pull back his hips and sharply thrust into you. “‘m gonna fuck you baby, make this pussy my own. carve my name into it, gonna fuckin’ claim you,”

your best friend barely knows what he’s saying, barely knows the person your pussy’s turned him into— any traces of his girlfriend ochako flushed out of his system by hormones like dopamine as his large hands roam your skin and map out your stretch marks and dips and scars, committing them to memory before sinking into the fat of your hips to keep you steady in his lap. “i-i’m yours, you have me just— move!” if only he knew how much ownership he had of your mind and body already, how much he’d staked his claim over you throughout the years— tonight he would see that, and hopefully realise how much of him you owned as well.

tongues twirling against one another, bakugou pulls away, licking up the string of drool that connected you. he grips your ass next, smacking a rough palm over the peachy flesh to make you squeal and take away some of the pain as he sets a tune to his hips while they begin to plough into you. “‘m gonna make you feel so good, make a woman outta you just like you and this sweet lil virgin thing wanted, yeah?” katsuki’s gaze drops to the mess between your thighs as if he’s gesturing to your cunt, pumping his cock into your creamy, puffy mound nice and deep— making you cry out for him and clamp down hard. “promised to wreck this sweet hole, make my angel forget all the mean things ‘chako said about you… have i ever— fuck, have ii ever broken a promise?”

bakugou struggles to leave the warmth of your pussy, not caring whether that's down to how addicting your tightness is or you keeping him selfishly locked against your soaked and ribbed walls. however, you manage to shake your head no, despite the way you writhe in his lap as he rocks his hips into yours, bulbous cock head battering up your squishy insides. “n-never, my ka’suki’s so good t’me!” you moan possessively, selfishly but it sounds like nothing but angel’s calls to your best friend, only driving him to rut into you harder, deeper.

“that’s fuckin’ right angel, never gonna let’cha down,” he growls, shoving his face into your neck yet again as if he doesn’t trust himself not to cum if he looks at your awe striken face any longer— large and gritty palms pulling you by your ass back and forth on his throbbing, leaky and fat dick to match the pace of him pounding your pathetically juicy slit, writing his name in milky white precum against every ridge inside of you. no matter how far katsuki’s cock pulls out of you, your hips always chase him, forcing them down with your body weight to keep him tucked inside of you— following your pleasure until your cunt is pushing against him, dripping down his balls that spurt equally as much precum inside of you. “don’cha cry angel, thought this was what’cha wanted, what was gonna make you feel better?” he coos, licking a stripe along your collarbones to taste you and to keep himself grounded.

you wrap your arms around bakugou’s neck, hugging him to your chest while he grunts against it needily and it’s not long before your bodies are bodies become coated coated in a sheen of sweat, drops of it pearling against his hairline and extenuating the sticky clap of you skin against each other— creating a harmonious tone that lingers in the air along with your moans and the scent of sex. “it is what i want, you’re what i want!” you squeal as your best friend bares down on pleasure spots your toys could only dream of reaching, only serving to add squelching sounds to the lewd soundtrack you both have going. “but i wanna be your favourite, wanna be yours,” you beg him wetly, delirious and dumb on his cock, filled with devoir and a sense of need for him and only him.

“‘course yer my fuckin’ favourite, look at how much y’love me, how much this pussy loves me— shit angel,” bakugou curses, his tone deep and rumbling throughout his chest. his words make you dizzy, the sight of him makes you dizzy. as he looks up at you, dazed and with rose tinted cheeks you take your view of him— the shine sweat adds to him, highlighting the sharpness to bakugpu’s jaw and the new maturity of his face, the flex of his arms as he lifts you up and down in his lap along with the way his washboard and honey glazed abs contract with exertion every time he thrusts into you. katsuki is like a taste of heaven and it almost makes you mad to know that before you, ochako was the only person who got to see him like this— but your burning rage and murderous impulse is quickly replaced by the ecstasy bakugou makes you feel by bruising up your insides, balls heavily slapping against your ass.

you grin to yourself inwardly, knowing that after tonight ochako will never get to see the beauty of katsuki bakugou like this, ever again.

bakugou may be the one fucking you, but you’re the one who’s in control of his heart tonight— you’ve sunk your claws into him, captured him as your prey and held him hostage. not that he minds, not that he cares, his only wish being that you’d done it sooner...fucking you like this, balls deep in your virgin pussy withh you tight and snug around him drives bakugou insane and makes him realise that you’re the only one he wants. not her, not his own fucking girlfriend.

no.

it’s always been you.

no other girl could get him drunk on cunt like this, vermillion eyes honing in on the way you gently start to lift your hips up and down, following the current of his thrusts as he pounds away at that tight little hole you’ve saved all for fucking him. no other girl could get katsuki to whimper and whine so loud before, you’re special, you’re something else. you’re his best friend. “god, this is the kinda pussy you only get to fuck in dreams, baby,” bakugou slurs with a perverted grin, changing the stroke of his hips to follow the pattern of circles instead of just driving his hips upward. “you my dream girl, angel? y’got the cute lil pussy i’ve only ever dreamed of pourin’ my cum into, yeah? always wanted t’fuck you, thought about it forever, now here i fuckin’ am…”

“did you think of me more than her?”

yes. katsuki would have been a fool not to notice the way you’d grown up s prettily over the years, body filling out into beautiful curves carved with dips and moles and freckles and scars all created by athena herself, the swell of your chest, fruit stained shade of your lips were things that didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend either. so yes, of course he’d thought about you in the depths of the night—his dirty hollywood dreams starring only the girl of his dreams, only its you instead of his girlfriend ochako, you and your name that tumbles from his lips only to be swallowed by the fabric of his sheets. its you who bakugou pictures beneath him when he folds his pillow into the shape of pussy, fucking it like he means it...like his life depends on it.

really, it’s always been you.

the blonde nuzzles at your shoulder with his sweaty forehead, shaking it against your equally sweaty skin. “mnhh, baby...yn,”

“answer me katsuki...a-answer me, please…” lazily, you run a hand through his mussed locks, making it worse

katsuki gasps softly, binding his lowly lip and screwing his eyes shut as he immerses himself in the passionate dance of your bodies; the slow and alluring bump and grind of his dick and your sweet pussy, tip jamming repeatedly and atrociously into your cervix— bullying your insides until you animalistically howl his name like a wolf calling to the moon. “more than her,” bakugou keens into your hands that claw down his bare back, scratching red tracks in the shape of your nails against his scarred skin and he lets his head drop to your neck, sinking the sharp edge of his canine teeth into your flesh and rolling his saliva soaked strawberry tongue over the assaulted area. “fuck— you feel like heaven, angel, c’mon, ride me...just like that, just like that…”

one hand braced on his shoulder, the other pats along the cushioned couch in search of katsuki’s phone. your birthday is his password—skillfully unlocked by you even while you clench down on the man in reward and he doesn’t hesitate to buck his hips back into you with the same level of feverishness, sloppily sliding your bodies against one another as you breathe, temperate and heavy and shakily into one another’s bruised lips. you tingle with joy, knowing yet another thing as simple as unlocking his phone boils down to just you—he’s obsessed with you, he loves you just as much as you love him. fumbling with katsuki’s phone and aim for the camera, a fresh wave of tears brew in your eyes and tangle with your lower lash line because he makes you see stars, gives you what you’ve been chasing after blindly for your whole life—the thickness of his shaft inside you as it stretches your virgin hole, the wet and impassioned snap of his hips into you, the sticky slap of his balls against your bare ass.

you’ve been dreaming of this for years and now you finally have him, all of katsuki bakugou to yourself. a selfish feeling wraps around your heart as you ride him, slow rolls of your hips taking is cock deeper into your squishy cunt, prrecum bleeding along your sensitive walls, and suddenly you feel the impulse to hit record— needing evidence of your night, something to show ochako that you’ve finally won.

the footage is blurry, the flash almost blinding you both as you turn on the camera and flip it to katsuki’s face, capturing every detail of his open mouth, tongue connected to the roof of his mouth by thick strings of spit—best visible when his head is thrown back in pure ecstasy. “the fuck are ya’doin’?” bakugou slurs, struggling to manage his words with the amount of saliva in his mouth. “you recordin’ me dirty girl? fuck, you wanna show the camera what a mess y’are f’me?” your tummy twists in delightful knots as katsuki plays himself up for the camera as soon as it turns on, giving it a toothy grin. essence pools between your raw folds, slicking up his cock as it dives into your plush folds, sliding perfectly against the soft velvet and you find yourself growing hornier from bakugou’s waves of intensity as they crash over you.

“uhuh, wan’...want keep a memo of how good you make me feel,” you tell him earnestly, almost losing your grip on the silver device you hold between your fingers— practically losing your mind when your best friend leans forward, letting all his excess spit drip down onto your joined sexes, lubing you up and making everything even more dissolute, nastier and creamier. it’s so obscene, the way his bubbles of white spit add a soft gleam to your tummy and pelvis as you both smash your sexes together—peeling back your hips from one anothers, the action only accompanied by a sticky sound. “‘hmygod, ka’suki!” the video picks up everything, especially the lewd and covetous cry you let out when bakugou grips your hips to grind you down against the wet mix he’s created, spit, his cum, your cum all coming together against your pussy.

the clip ends there and somehow you manage to spitefully forward it onto your best friend’s girlfriend. you can’t help the greedy clench of your cunt around katsuki’s pretty dick, feeling his veins sear their marks into your walls— the blonde doesn’t miss it either. it drives you wild, a frenzied blur of sex and hormones as you think of poor innocent ochako out at the party having the time of her life—it makes fat drops of your saccharine nectar to ooze from your ravaged hole just to imagine her face as the video of you fucking her boyfriend finally lights up her phone.

oh how turned on her ruined night makes you.

“you liked that, huh?” bakugou coos to you, capturing your raptured woozy stare with his ruby framed eyes that dance with lust as he pierces you on his cock over and over again. “‘course y’fuckin did, can feel it with how hard yer clampin’ dwon on me, angel,” he’s getting cocky— doped up on the way you suck him in and bounce away on him as if you’d done this before, his sweet virgin girl claiming what's rightfully hers. you need to put him back in his place, fuck your best friend hard enough to remind him who’s the rightful owner of the dick thats making you feel good for the very first time, you do everything your power to make the night last longer so you can torture the brunette bitch he’s dating even more—pushing back down on katsuki every time he thrusts up so that he can never leave the warmth of your soaked mound. the blonde leans back, watching you work yourself above him, dangerous and fiery eyes taking in the view, “so fuckin’ beauttiful when yer on’toppa me, takin’ this cock so good on your firsty try. s-shit, why didn’t i fuck you sooner, hah? got this perfect little pussy ‘n everythin’, the best i’ve ever had,”

katsuki’s praise shoots straight to your throbbing mound and has you jumping even as he slaps a rough palm over your puffy clit. “didn’t fuck me sooner , ‘cause you were to busy with her,” you snarl hotly, circling your hips over the blondes, driving his bright red tip into your g-spot, chasing your own pleasure as it bubbles in your lower tummy. “balls deep in her instead of me. shoulda been fuckin’ your favourite girl but instead...you were with ochako. why not me, suki? ‘m i not your favourite anymore?”

you reach for the phone again, pulling up the camera ready to record bakugou’s hazy response as you move to grip him by the roots of his hair, forcing him back against the couch while you bounce away in a frenzy on top of him— your unified groans slipping through the night air. “you’ve always been my favourite, she couldn’t even fuckin’ compare,” he mumbles to you, eyes glinting with mischief as you hit the record button once again. taking control, you lean forward again, spitting onto katsuki’s chest, pinching and teasing his nipples until they’re sore and he’s practically screaming your name, watching as the viscous glob rolls down between his fat pecs, “you sendin’ that shit to her, yeah? what a naughty fuckin’ girl, angel. tell ‘er whatcha gonna do to this cock, tell her whatcha gonna fuckin’ do to this cock. show her,” he sneers into the camera, dragging it down to show where your bodies join and cream froths at his base, dripping in white down his balls. “claim me for the fuckin’ camera, yeah, that’s right. fuckin’ claim me.”

hearing him breaking beneath you, desperate to keep your pussy locked onto his cock and you think; she must not be fucking him enough, not giving him enough juicy cunt to keep poor katsuki satisfied. she deserves to see what a mess your body’s made him, deserves to have her night destroyed and shattered to a million pieces by the sight of your swollen, tight, perfect pussy taking him in so nicely, and so you send off a second video to her, “you’re mine katsuki, mine forever. never hers, k-kay?” your voice is hushed as you take his lower lip between your teeth, making the pair of you an even greater mess while you guide bakugou into yet another raunchy kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth before twirling the two pink muscles together. you claim every inch of him, with hands and tongue and your puckered hole alike—writing your name sinfully across his body so that katsuki really knows that he’s yours.

“‘m fuckin yours baby, belong to you,” the blonde says to you, his words woven with the sweetness of candy, shaky from feeling you pulse around him—heartbeat in your pussy. “don’ want anyone else to have me, show that camera how good you take me...how you make me yours,” hot on his tongue, katsuki speaks in heated phrases before he spits onto his fingers, shoving the soiled digits against your swollen clit, blooming from the blood rush as he rubs it in tight circles, coating your sex in a crude mix of your juices and saliva—pushing it into you. the camera on the back of his phone catches it all, feeding it straight into ochako’s phone.

you pull your hips up, caught mid thrust by one of katsuki’s large hands holding your waist. you whimper at the feeling of being empty, no longer having the pressure of your best friend’s dick deep in your tummy, constantly bearing down on your g-spot hard. his cock is all the way out of you and only his tip is brushing against your clit, sticky and smeared with opaque white when bakugou makes you rut against it, stimulating yourself to your heart’s content—his bright red cockhead gliding easily between your creamy folds. he feels so good against you that you drop your grip on the phone that you miss the banging on the door outside, ignoring the sound and choosing instead to wrap your arms around bakugou’s muscled neck...stabilizing yourself while he takes ahold of the fleshy ass, kneading the flesh between calloused fingers and watching you get yourself off on him. “mmgod, fuck katsuki! lemme back on your cock, please...give it t’me, give it. please.” you squeal breathlessly, tongue rolling out of your mouth while you impatiently thrust your hips down, trying to coax the blonde back into your cute little cunt. you spit into your own hand, lubing it up before you grip his throbbing and achy shaft, jerking bakugou off until streams of foul language coat his lips and tattoo themselves against your skin. you even thumb the rim of his tip a little, knowing that he likes that.

“fuck! bakugou, i know you’re in there with that whore!” the banging on the door resumes, and you moan bakugou’s name louder, just to spitethe bitch who you know is just outside.

“angel, fuck...love you, love you like this, love you on top of me, takin’ this cock as your own,” bakugou curses, flopping back against he couch and smoothing his rough hands over your body. he eventually settles them where your breasts ( as they bounce ) meet your ribcage, rubbing the area and sending goosebumps rising across your sweaty, honeyed skin. “this dick is yours, this dick s’the only one that can fuck you, this dick only goes inside this fuckin’ pussy.”

‘katsuki! open up! katsuki!’

the words are muffled by the wooden door between the outside world and the bubble you’ve made with bakugou—blood rushing through your ears, carrying lust amongst many other things. “k-katsuki, please...feels so fuckin’ good, d-don’t stop, don’t stop! you’re so good, s-so good!” you babble, losing your mind and your focus, letting everything that is katsuki bakugou overwhelm you. “i-i’m your girl, your favourite, no one else c-can have you!”

ochako’s piercing voice yells again from outside, fighting the locked door while bakugou manhandles you into a position he likes to chase the ebb of your highs as they begin to set fire to your insides. with every sharp pounding of his cock into your cunt, you both take feverish steps towards your orgasms, the blistering heat of them sneaking up on you. “‘m never gonna stop baby, not for anyone...gonna fuck you as long as you want me to, yeah? promise you. ‘m yours,” your best friend whispers, turning you around in his lap until your back is to his sticky chest. he pushes you forward by the curve of your spine, almost bending you in half as your face reaches the floor. “t-thats fuckin’ it angel, turn around around ‘n lemme see your ass bounce on me, just like that,”

“keep fuckin’ me just like that, fuckin’ ochako wishes she could be you, my favourite fuckin’ girl—ah shit!” he adds, sending a tremor of pleasure down your spine as dopamine sizzles at your nerve endings.

so you do as bakugou says, even though your thighs burn with how much you bounce up and down on him, throwing your ass back onto him to pull more of his dirty moans from his filthy mouth. your name is the only thing bakugou can say— chanting it like a prayer, as if his brain has been wiped of all other thoughts accept for you and the way you sink down on him, right to the creamy base of his dick as if it wasn’t even a problem eyes rolling, your toes curl, clamping down greedily on bakugou until his breath stutters and his dick, swollen with the load he’s holding back, has no room to breathe.

you don’t even stop fucking like animals when the door bursts open, a teary eyed ochako throwing herself into the room to the sight of her boyfriend fucking the girl she’d always been so worried about. to see him fucking you. “o-oh my god! katsuki bakugou wh-what the fuck are you doing? with her?” his girlfriend screams, but he can’t even look at her, obsessed with the way your body feels moving along with his. “you’re both fucking sick!”

“‘m gonna cum, katsuki,” you say airly, a smirk tugging at your lips as your eyes lock with shaky brown orbs—you can’t hold back at this point, your body craving to touch the white light of your release, the knots twisted in your stomach beginning to come undone as the pace of bakugou’s hips start to falter and grow impatient, churning up your insides as his sensitive tip drags along your spongy walls and pushes up against your squishy g-spot. it hurts so good to hold back, but it feels even better to watch ochako cry and scream and beg for her boyfriend to stop fucking you.

but bakugou isn’t doing any better than you are, beneath you, his muscled thighs tremble and his the stroke of his hips become sloppy and languid. “c’mon angel, cum f’me, paint this cock...let it all out f’me,” he mumbles strainedly into your shoulder, tweaking your nipples and barely acknowledging the presence of his girlfriend ( or ex, at this point ) while his calloused fingers dance down the softness of your tummy to toy with your clit once again, dragging you by the ankle towards both of your highs. “c-can’t hold it anymore baby, gonna...gonna—! fuck!”

“stop it, kastuki!”

the lewd cross of your eyes as you finally cum with katsuki is what drives uraraka off of the edge, breaking into full on sobs when your dam bursts—colours in brand new shades flashing behind your eyes, bakugou’s hips fail to slow as he guides you through your orgasm, sending you into a series of shivers and your mouth hangs open in a silent scream that makes your throat hoarse. you cum so hard that the world around you seems to fall away, throwing an arm behind you to grip the blonde locks of your best friend’s hair to ground yourself. your release splashes out against the floor, cunt fluttering rhythmically as it paints both yours and katsuki’s thighs before triggering his own high.

“f-fuck, fuck! ‘m cummin’, ‘m cummin. gonna fill you up baby...can ya take it? take my cum?” he gripes needily into the shell of your ear, high pitched and whiney. the blonde’s voice fades to static, hips bucking up into your soiled pussy with one last surge of power before he’ss spilling white hot seed into your spasming hole. there’s so much of it, bakugou’s cum bleeding out of you slipping down between your ass cheeks— your tummy practically swells form how much of his own release he’s given you and eventually, katsuki’s cantering hips slow down until they reach a grind, cock slipping out of you and spewing the last of his cum against your inner thighs and soft tummy. “holy fuckin’ shit baby, fuck.”

bakugou collapses into the couch as he comes down from the high heavens, near passing out and leaving you to deal with his gobsmacked girlfriend. “take a picture ochako, it’ll last longer!” you coo, sickly sweet, making the brunette stomp her foot like a petulant child and flee the scene.

after she’s gone, katsuki seems to stir awake with an amused laugh, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder. “y’fuckin’ crazy angel, i love you.”

“d’ya mean that, suki?” you ask him with amused eyes as you turn around in his lap—drawing shapes over his heartbeat as you revel in the victory of your plan. “do you really love me?”

bakugou nods, rubbing his hand over the curve of your spine, kissing your nose as he slips in and out of consciousness. “always fuckin’ have, it’ll always be you, kay angel?” he tells you softly.

you barely have a chance to respond to bakugou, for he’s already passed out from how much you’d worn him out. you’d have a lot to talk about when the party was over and he'd woken up again, but for now you curl up against him contentedly— smiling at the knowledge that you’d always be his favourite girl.

networks: @planetonet, @treehouse-network.

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

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© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[tobiokuns]

— surprise pregnancy with haikyuu boys

summary: you hadn’t planned for this to happen. neither of you had. but it had, and now you had to tell him.

characters: kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, akaashi keiji

tags: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, some humor, brief mention of abortion, implied body image insecurities, happy ending

— kageyama tobio

you wring your hands as you lean against the doorjamb, anxiously waiting for kageyama to come home. he’d had a long week, you know, but your first appointment with your doctor is on monday, and you think he’d like to be there if possible. at least, you’d put it off long enough.

the click of the lock unlatching and the familiar turn of the knob raises your attention. you feel like you’re going to choke under the pressure, and even seeing his face doesn’t calm you down.

if anything, you’re even more nervous, seeing the sweat on his brow.

“tobio—” you call over to him when he walks through the door, before you lose your nerve, “i’m pregnant.”

there’s a terse silence, even though kageyama just looks confused. your boyfriend blinks once, twice, and scrunches his eyebrows like he always does when he’s thinking hard, and just stares. your heart pounds in your chest.

“...but i just signed onto a new team,” he says, finally.

you make a sound of affirmation. “yeah, i know,” you sigh, smiling tightly, “but we can make it work, right?”

he kinda looks like he does when he’s setting, in deep concentration, kind of unhappy. you wait for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on, for so long that you think you’ll have a heart attack.

“my first doctor’s appointment is on monday,” you tell him, trying to nudge him into saying something, “do you want to come with me?”

“i can’t, i have practice,” he blurts out almost automatically, and you nod. of course he does. it’s silent for a while, and then he’s speaking again. “can’t you...” he swallows, looking away, “...not have the baby?”

don’t lose your shit, you tell yourself, don’t lose your shit. you tamp down the growing anger and nod again, making another vague humming noise.

“yeah, i could,” you agree, voice eerily quiet, “but i want the baby, tobio.”

“okay,” he nods, “...do what you want, then.” 

your heart drops. you can’t see his face, not with his bangs covering his eyes, but you stare at him for a while anyway, your own eyes stinging. you silently shuffle back into the house, leaving him standing in the doorway.

it’s awkward when he slips into bed that night. you keep your back to him, but you can almost feel his gaze on the ceiling. you don’t know when he sleeps, or if he ever does. by the time you wake up, he’s wrapped around you, leg thrown over yours, his big hand rubbing over your still flat stomach under your shirt.

he jolts awake as soon as you stir, dropping his lips against your neck and nuzzling you.

“i’m sorry about last night,” he murmurs immediately, and you’re sure he’s pouting. “y-you caught me off guard. i want it. the... the baby. with you.”

you sigh, staring at the wall opposite from you. you think of having to move again, back to japan this time. you thought that would be good for you and kageyama, but his reaction last night...

“are you sure?” you ask, covering his hand with yours, missing some of the bravado you had, “we can...”

“no,” he sounds almost childish, and you smile, wondering how he’ll be as a father, “no, i’m—i’m sure.”

his arms tighten around you. it’s not often that you get to cuddle in the morning with kageyama, not when he’s always going for jogs and volleyball practice. so you lean back, telling yourself that everything will be just fine.

— miya atsumu

“y’know, y/n...” your boyfriend says to you one day, “yer gettin’ kinda... like, fat...”

you whip your head around to stare at him, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. he cowers instinctively, waiting for you to hit him like you usually do, but your arm stops midair before you let it drop. 

you wanted to hide this a little longer, because to be honest, you were scared. scared of his reaction, scared he wouldn’t want you, scared you’d be left alone. but you sigh, knowing you couldn’t anymore, and slump against the couch.

“atsumu...” you lower your voice, and instantly he cowers more.

“i‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it like that!” he yells, hands covering his face, “don’t hit me, i’m beggin—”

“no, atsumu,” you sigh, taking his hands into yours, “listen to me.”

he sees how serious your expression is and quiets down, bowing his head and leaning closer to you. the idiot still probably thinks you’re mad because he called you fat, you think. you would’ve laughed if you didn’t feel like puking at this moment.

“i’m pregnant,” you say, taking a deep breath, “we’re gonna have a baby.”

“hah?” he retorts quickly, “we’re what? no, we’re not.”

you watch as his face changes, and then he’s off again. “no, y/n, ya can’t be pregnant. i can’t be a dad. have ya met me? samu doesn’t even have a kid yet, ‘nd that’s like, the one thing i don’t wanna beat him at and— goddammit, i shoulda used condoms—”

 “atsumu,” you almost scream, the panic bubbling up in your chest, “do you not want to do this with me?”

“but, weren’t ya on the pill or somethin’? how could this happen?” he acts as if he hadn’t heard your question,” y/n, are ya sure it’s min—”

you can’t take it anymore and burst out crying. you don’t even pay attention to the fact that he just accused you of cheating. the stress from the weeks of keeping this to yourself explodes and you sob loudly, louder than atsumu’s panicked rambling.

“shit—” he curses, seeing your tears, and quickly taking your hands into his, “y/n, ’m sorry, i—it’s just—i’m gonna be a horrible dad, ya know? i don’t know if i can do this, it’s like... i’m not very reliable ‘nd ma always said—”

“but,” you sniffle through your tears, “aren’t we doing this together?”

he nods slowly, and then moves to rest his head on your chest. he tentatively puts a hand on your stomach, rubbing his index finger over it as if it were foreign to him.

“yeah,” he agrees quietly, “we’re doing this together.”

— akaashi keiji

you knew akaashi hadn’t wanted a child, not yet at least. you knew that, and yet when he said okay the night you told him you were pregnant, you were naive enough to think that it was actually okay.

he works, all the time, very hard. it only made sense, he had told you he needed to, in order to get to where he wanted to be. but it left you many nights, belly and feet swollen, joints aching, alone on the couch, wondering what you were doing.

did you eat your vitamins? he asks softly every morning without fail. but that was it.

you went to doctor’s appointments alone, you shopped for baby clothes alone, and you stared at the empty four walls of the baby’s room alone. you were too afraid to buy furniture for it: it seemed too permanent, especially when being pregnant seemed like a repressed dream every day.

"keiji, ” you call out to him early one morning, before he can leave for work again, “...let’s not have the baby.”

he doesn’t respond and for a moment you can’t even tell if he heard you. but then he’s whipping his head around, as if he had just realized what you said, and scrambles to kneel at your side.

“what’s wrong?” he places a hand on your belly, right beside yours, like he never had, “are you feeling—”

“you’re never here!” you cry, wincing at your own screech, “i don’t want to do this alone, keiji. i can’t do this alone. the baby started kicking yesterday, you know? and you weren’t there. i didn’t even know what to do. i’m not gonna know what to do. god, we need a crib and a c-changing table, and—”

you stop when he lays his head down on your lap. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles faintly, his hot breath seeping through your shirt. the kitchen is silent with your sniffles. you’re so tired, from the pregnancy or everything else, but you tangle your fingers in akaashi’s hair, and it brings you just an ounce of comfort. it’s soft as always, just like it was when you had started dating.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, turning his head to the side to face you, letting your fingers drift over his cheek, “i was taking on more work, to save money for... for the baby. i hadn’t— ...i didn’t realize i was neglecting you, y/n.” 

 you look down, “y-you were what?” 

 “i took on a new author,” he tells you, “and i asked around for some freelance work. i think we’re okay financially, but you never know, so i thought it’d be good to have extra—”

“keiji,” you interrupt, voice scratchy, “were you nervous?” 

“well, yes,” he admits, leaning into your palm, “but that’s no excuse for leaving you all alone. i can drop the freelance, maybe move most of my work back home—” 

you smile, the familiar sound of akaashi overthinking things a buzz in your ears. you brush your thumb over the wrinkles between his eyebrows, tracing the lines on his face, recognizing the way his eyes tighten when he’s serious. he looks up at you. 

“do you want to come to the doctor’s with me on thursday?” you sniffle softly, smiling at him. 

“...yes,” he nods, almost like a reflex, but you can see him thinking again, his stare blanking. you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, placing them over your belly. the focus returns to his eyes and he looks reassured, finally smiling back at you. 

“yes,” he repeats, “i’ll come with you.”