#and now his little message bubble has been going for five minutes

[bbyquokka]

dead roses

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | han jisung x fem reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | angst, hurt/comfort, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 | you've found out that jisung has been cheating on you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | cheating, nipple/breast play, thigh fucking, thigh grinding, oral (m+ f rec), 69, love bites, vaginal fingering, protective sex ( p in v ), crying during sex, a lot of angst, hurt with no comfort ( if i missed any, lmk! )

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 | 6.1k ~ ( 6,113 )

m.list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

it started off small. at first, it was a few late nights at the office. then, he became secretive. he'd hide his phone from you, rush to it and snatch it off you when he had a text. he started to lie to you. “just going to the store. i will be five minutes.” but those minutes turned to hours.

you don't know what's happened to the man you loved. when you and jisung met, he was so sweet, caring and attentive. he made you laugh with his stupid and corny jokes. he knew how to brighten your day when you were feeling low. he knew how to make you feel loved.

the first day of every month, he bought you a single rose until you had twelve, then twenty-four, then twenty-six. those roses are dead. the petals crumble from a gentle touch, the colour drained and rotten and black. the water is dirty and murky yet they still sit on your coffee table as a painful reminder that the love you both shared, is just as dead as those roses.

touch became little to nothing. sex was none existent. jisung has a high sex drive so for him to go months without having sex with you, is strange. he no longer kisses you, hugs you or holds your hand. he can't even look you in the eyes. 

does he hate you? does he no longer want to be with you? do you not please him enough? all these questions and more swim in and out of your mind, day in, day out. you're riddled with anxiety when you watch him walk out the door to work. you're riddled with guilt for questioning the relationship; for questioning his love for you.

it got so bad and so draining that you considered putting a tracker on his phone and spying on him. but you couldn't bring yourself to do something like that – all you had to do was trust him even if your gut was telling you differently.

everything you thought of, every question that was left unanswered and every action of jisung's that was questionable have now all be answered due to the fact that you have found messages from him to another.

you feel sick to your stomach. rage bubbling and rushing through your veins like hot molten lava. your hands tremble and palms sweat as you scroll through his messages. you locked yourself in the bathroom, jisung fast asleep in the bed you both share. 

you know it's a huge breach of trust to go through someone's phone without permission, but you heard him on the phone earlier. you heard him say “i'll be there, baby.” you watched him walk out the door minutes later and return two hours later with a purple bruise on his neck and smelling of another. you saw the guilt in his eyes as you questioned him. 

he's a terrible liar.

you could wake him up there and then, question him about everything. wake him up with the harsh truth that you know everything but you wait. you want at least one more day to be sure, one more day of calmness before the boat rocks and you sink to the bottom. you know the proof is there in your hands, the messages, the naked pictures, the calls and the sexting. it's there but you need and want to be absolutely sure.

jisung is your everything and more. he's your world and he's taught you how to love yourself again. everything you've built together, gone in less than a second. the trust you had for him, shattered. your heart, crumbling like the rose petals.

you've seen enough. you close his phone before making your way back to bed. you place his phone back on the side table before sliding into bed beside him. you lay on your back, staring blankly at the ceiling as tears blur your vision and spill from the corners of your eyes. your heartbeat thumping loudly in your ears, shattering with each tear that trickles down your skin.

a nightmare turned into reality.

you tried to act normal the next day to not raise suspicions. you tried to go about the day as if you didn't know but flashes of the texts shoot across your mind leaving you feeling sick and shackled. the rage building and building until you finally snapped. all it took was for jisung to return home late smelling of them, once again.

“where have you been?” you ask sweetly from your position on the sofa. jisung shrugs as he takes off his shoes.

“with changbin. i thought i told you before. he invited me out for dinner.”

“mhm, maybe you did. must have slipped my mind.” you fake a smile and a chuckle before continuing, jisung walking to you. “how was the meal? where did you eat?”

“it was fine.” he shrugs. “we went to changbin's favourite restaurant.”

you hum and nod as a response. the smell of another strong and tickling your nostrils now that he is much closer to you. you can see his honey skin glistening and his cheeks pink. his lips swollen and kiss bitten. 

“so, restaurant with changbin you say.”

“yes.” jisung laughs. “is that a pro–”

“funny you should say that, ji.” you interrupt him. “because i phoned changbin up and asked about you and he told me that you never showed up. in fact, you never had anything planned with him.”

the colour drains from those round cheeks you adore. his eyes widen in shock as the cogs turn in his head in search of an excuse – a lie.

he laughs, a fake laugh, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other whilst rubbing the back of his neck. you stand up from your seat, eyebrow raised as you stare him dead in the eyes.

“oh c'mon, maybe he forgot.” he stutters, his voice shaking. you scoff which causes jisung to swallow.

“you're such a bad liar. not only are you using your best friend as an excuse, you can't even tell me the truth!”

“oh, c'mon yn. i'd never lie to you. i have no reason to lie to you!”

“really? because from where i'm standing, ji your body tells me differently. your brow is coated in sweat, your hands are shaky and clammy. your pupils have blown out and you're swallowing a lot as if your throat has gone dry as well as stumbling over your words and stuttering. you're lying to me, jisung.”

“yn, i have nothing to hide. please tell me why would i lie to you when all i have done is be honest and loving to you. devoted myself to you.” you roll your eyes at his words and scoff. you see red and the words come out like vomit.

“i know.” those two words you speak are enough to shake jisung up. fear clouds his mind and hugs his body. his heart thumps against his chest as his jaw clenches and throat tightens with each swallow of his saliva.

“know what?” he whispers. you stare at him.

“i know you've been sleeping with someone else.” 

jisung laughs. a laugh that's forced. a laugh that tries to lighten the situation and make it seem like a joke in hopes that you too, will find it funny and ridiculous of what you're accusing him off.

but it's not funny nor ridiculous. it's true and he knows it. he's been caught.

“i don't know what you're talking about, baby.” 

you roll your eyes and scoff. the anger rises to your cheeks. your body is hot with rage but you remain calm not because you want to but because you need to.

“stop lying to me, jisung. just admit it.”

“how did you know?”

“i went through your phone.” you say with a shrug. 

“you went through my phone?!” his voice increasing a little in volume, eyebrows furrowed together.

“seriously? me doing through your phone is the least of your worries right now jisung. you've been off with me for weeks, months! you don't touch me, don't talk to me. you barely look at me! it's like i disgust you or something! i needed answers because hell i wasn't going to get any off you.”

“i'm sorry. i've just been stressed, tired. i didn't mean to make–”

“how long?”

“excuse me?”

“how long has this been going on for? and don't even think about lying to me again jisung. all i ask of you is the truth. am i not worthy of that?” you voice shakes, nostrils flaring as hot tears blur your vision. jisung's expression softens, guilt spreading across his face. he sighs in defeat, lips pressing together.

“5 months..” he whispers. you nod once, hastily wiping the tears falling down your cheeks.

“why? is it me? do i not satisfy you enough. am i not good enough for you? i thought we had something, jisung..” 

"no! it was never you. i didn't do this out of spite, believe me yn! you're amazing, talented and so beautiful. the first time was a stupid, drunken mistake but–”

“but it felt good.” you finish his sentence with a whisper, your deepest fears coming to light. you and jisung have spent hours talking about your future together. you've spent endless minutes under the sheets together, planning and telling each other your wishes and dreams. he was the man you wanted to spend your life with, your forever after.

you wanted to marry him, have children with him, watch him achieve his goals and dreams. you never thought of him as someone who would cheat and willingly throw everything away – but love is blind they say and you were very blind.

“i thought we had something. the talks we had. our dreams. our future together, gone.” you whisper in disbelief. your heart sinking with each passing second. 

“it's not gone, darling.” he walks to you, his voice sickening sweet and gentle. it makes you believe he is just mocking the situation, mocking you as a person. you take one step back away from him and glare.

“don't you dare touch me after what you've done.”

“baby, please. i never meant to hurt you. i've been stressed and wanted some fun, someone to take my stress out onto. it's not my fault you've been so busy lately.” 

you look at him in disbelief. your eyes widen in shock. your body moves on its own and it isn't until you hear the harsh slap and feel the sting on your palm do you realize what you've just done.

“don't you dare! don't you fucking dare try and pretend to be the victim and spin this on me! i've been here the whole fucking time, waiting and wondering. questioning myself and this fucking scam of a relationship! do you know how many tears i have shed for you?! do you know how many hours i've spent laying awake at night and wondering why?! do you know that i've been filled with a suffocating amount of anxiety that it's caused me to throw up?!”

with his hand on his now red cheek, he looks up at you and swallows. his cheek burns from your slap. “i'm sorry.. i did–”

“didnt mean it? like you didn't mean to stick your cock into someone else for all these months?!”

“i'm sorry yn. what more do you want me to say or do? because if you have any ideas, please tell me and i'll do it.” the tears that roll down jisung's soft cheeks take you by surprise. his usual, life filled eyes now dead and showing nothing but heartbreak. they still shimmer though due to the tears that cascade down his soft cheeks – those cheeks you've missed squeezing and cooing over for hours and hours on end.

those cheeks that you adore because they belong to the man you adore.

“tell me yn, please i beg of you. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for making you feel this way. i'm sorry for doing what i've done. i'm sorry for being selfish and for being a jerk.” he walks towards you with you walking backwards. your heart races as he gets closer and closer to you and soon, your movement ends due to your back hitting the wall.

“ji, please..” you all but whisper. a broken whisper, a pleading whisper. you want all this to end, to turn back time to when things were simpler. to when he was yours and only yours.

you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at jisung but you can smell him. underneath the stench of the other person, you smell his natural scent. the scent you find the utmost comfy in. the scent that calms your mind and grounds you. your security. your safe space.

“i love you yn.” you open your eyes slowly, bottom lip quivering. you allow the tears to freefall down your cheeks as you're now face to face with him. “i love you.”

as he repeats the words, you allow him to reach down and hold your hand. is it your palms that are sweaty or his? either way, his skin is soft and tender. you can feel his hands all over your body. his fingers gently caressing your skin, setting it ablaze.

“i can't..” you shake your head. “this isn't – this isn't fair, jisung.” you sob.

he gives you a sad yet gentle smile as he brushes away your tears. his hand lingers for a split second and you allow yourself a moment of weakness, a moment of submission.

you feel his lips being pressed against yours gently and you allow it. you don't fight him. you don't push him away. you want him and you hate that about yourself.

his lips are so soft, so gentle. they're plump and mold beautifully with yours. he cups both your cheeks as you tilt your head to the side and moves your lips with his in a soft and passionate kiss. tears continue to fall down your cheeks as well as his own as you hold onto his wrists.

you just want him. just one more night of pure bliss. a night of pretending. 

the kiss deepens and turns more passionate. your body aches and burns from his simple touches. you've been touch starved of him for months and his simple touches are making you weak at the knees.

his tongue glides along your bottom lip slowly, asking – begging for permission which you grant but slowly parting your lips for him. you groan softly as his body presses flush against yours, his leg between yours and thigh pressing against your core.

his tongue enters your mouth where he caresses and tastes the inside. soft grunts and moans being swallowed by one another. tongues caressing and fighting for dominance as well as saliva mixing in the process. his hands drops from your cheeks to your hips where he holds and moves them back and forth so you rub against his thigh.

“ji..” you gasp as you pull away for a brief second. you pant a little before groaning softly as he leans in and peppers kisses along your neck. from the corner of your eye, you see the purple bruise from the other person and your heart sinks to your stomach like a dead weight. the tears come back and flow down your cheeks but you tilt your head to the side and allow jisung to kiss and mark your skin, acting like you belong to him and him only.

even though he doesn't belong to you anymore.

with each kiss, with each touch of his skin, a piece of your heart breaks off and crumbles to the floor but you're so consumed with him. his scent, his touch, his mind, body and soul. you've longed for him. longed for him to just take you, devour you, indulge in you.

“jisung.” you whisper softly. he pulls away from your neck. his lips glistening with saliva, his cheeks red and eyes glassy with lust and want. he wants you and it fills you up with so much ecstacy. you finally feel wanted.

jisung's grip on your hips tightens as he moves them a little faster. his thigh tenses under you, hardening as it rubs against your pussy through the layers of clothing. jisung presses his lips against yours again, this time it's messy, filled with want, need, desire and lust.

teeth bash together. saliva mixing and spilling from the lips. your lips swell as he nibbles and kisses them. you reach down between your bodies to cup his erection which causes jisung to gasp softly and hips to buck automatically in your hand.

you start by palming him slowly, feeling just how much he wants you. you trace his outline through the layers of fabric with your fingers before squeezing and palming him slowly but roughly.

his hands leave your hips to travel up your stomach from under your t-shirt where he stops just below your breasts. his fingers dance along your skin before cupping the soft flesh in his hands where he rolls and kneads them in his palms. you groan, eyes fluttering shut as you lean against the wall, hips grinding down on his thigh.

jisung watches you. he watches you unravel and fall right into the palm of his hands. he knows your weak spots, knows what you like and don't like but he also knows what drives you insane. your lips part as your breathy moans in the form of his name fall past them. his fingertips brush against your hard nipples where he teases them by delicately running his fingers over them.

it leaves goose bumps on the skin, your nipples to harden even further. your eyes open as you shake your head and beg;

“don't tease me. i need you more than ever.” 

jisung swallows, his body shivering at your words. you look so desperate for him. a look of intense lust and need spread all over your features. your hips moving on their own and your hands grasping at his clothing. you're begging for him, for his touch. you're begging for him to indulge in you.

he takes your hand and drags you to the bedroom. he strips himself off his clothing, the sight of his gorgeous tanned skin makes you throb. his broad shoulders and bulging chest. his tiny waist and soft stomach – you want it all.

he drops his underwear, letting them pool around his ankles before stepping out of them. his cock standing proud and leaking a little at the tip. you watch, frozen in time. your eyes trail from his chest to his penis where you admire it. the length, the way his foreskin hugs his tip, the veins that are slowly protruding along the sides; you feel so new, so vulnerable and no one can blame you. you haven't seen him naked in months so seeing him like this is enough to set a raging fire to burn in your stomach.

your breath hitches as he walks to you. he pulls your t-shirt up and over your head before latching onto your breasts. he suckles on your nipple, tongue playing and swirling around the hard bud. he coats it in his saliva, his tongue flat as he swipes it. 

one hand on your neglected breast, one hand currently pulling your bottoms and underwear off. his fingers tugging at your nipple simultaneously with each flick on his tongue. your fingers find their way into his silky smooth hair where you grasp and tug at the roots.

your bottom half is hit with cold air as your clothing shimmies down your legs and pools at your feet. the hand that was pulling your clothing off is now attached to your ass cheek where he massages the flesh and pulls your naked half flush against his own.

his cock slides between your thigh and rubs between your folds. you both gasp and shiver, jisung now gripping onto your ass cheeks as he thrusts his hips slowly, rubbing his cock against your cunt and plush thighs. he growls, teeth now sinking into the skin of your breasts before sucking and leaving purple bruising.

“so good.. fuck, i've missed you.” he moans as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. you swallow hard, swallowing down that burn in your throat as you blink back tears.

i've been here the whole time you wish to say but you don't want to ruin the mood. you have him, finally after months and months of waiting. you've allowed yourself to be weak, to indulge in his touch that you've craved.

you push back the negative thoughts, force yourself into forgetting about his affairs. as far as you're concerned, it's just you and him in the moment. you can play pretend – for one more night at least.

jisung cups your cheeks and kisses you messily. he's always been like this; sloppy and needy. it makes you wonder if he is the same with them as he is with you. you push the thought to the side as you kiss him back just as messily, desperation coursing through your veins and lust clouding your better judgment.

during the kiss, jisung walks forwards, pushing you backwards with each step until you hit the bed and fall back. without breaking the kiss, he kneels between your legs and leans over you, hands by the side of your head.

“69?” he questions in a breathy tone. you simply nod and hum before you both shuffle around and position yourselves. you on top, head by jisung's cock with your legs on either side of his head, cunt eye level with him.

he licks his lips hungrily, taking in a deep breath of your scent before moaning loudly and grabbing your ass cheeks. you giggle before grabbing the base of his cock and slowly stroke him.

he grunts before latching onto your swollen clit. your hips buck as his tongue swipes and toys with it, lips wrapping around the swollen bud as he sucks. two of his fingers rub between your puffy folds. a hum of satisfaction as he feels your slick coating his fingers up nicely.

“so fucking wet for me. i love how wet i make you, yn.” he mumbles. 

“only for you, baby.” you purr as you lazily stroke him. you pull back his foreskin, watching it slip down from his tip and revealing its red state. it's swollen, beads of precum forming before dispersing. his skin is hot against your palm. you lean down to press your tongue flat and glide it along his tip, collecting the salty precum.

you wrap your lips around his tip, lowering your head further down on his shaft. his thickness causes the corner of your lips to stretch and for you to feel full despite only managing less than half. jisung groans from below you, his penis being encapsulated in your warmth and wetness. 

it makes him want to fuck you right there and then. feel your soft and gummy walls tighten around his length. watch his shaft glisten in your slick – but he waits. he wants to play with your pretty pussy some more. he wants to feel it throb and beg for more of his touch. 

he loves how slick you feel. how you respond to his touch so well. he loves it, so much so, that he becomes riddled with guilt. his mind switches and turns back to the many times he was out for hours on end with the other person. they don't feel as good as you. they don't sound as good as you, yet he still continued because he became addicted to the thrill.

he knew he was hurting you. he saw each piece of you crumble every time he returned home. the sullen look on your face, your eyes puffy and red whilst filling up with tears as you noticed yet another bruise. he's a coward, he knows that. the amount of times he's wanted to tell you, to confess his sins, makes him feel sick to his own stomach.

he doesn't recognise himself anymore. the thrill of being with another changed him, changed him into something he vowed to never be. he became the man he hates. he willingly threw everything that he had with you away. the dreams, the talks, the wants and desires – gone!

he knows you'll never be able to bounce back from this. he knows that if you do decide to stay with him, he has his work cut out. he knows your anxiety will be all over the place and your trust in him is little to nothing; but if you're willing to give him another chance, he will try so hard until he is red in the face and sweating blood and shedding tears.

he wouldn't blame you if you broke up with him though. in fact, that's what he is expecting after all this. this isn't make-up sex, it's different. it's the calm before the storm (even though the storm has already happened) it's goodbye sex. one more night of passion. one more night of embracing each other before going your separate ways. the thought of spending the rest of his life without you, pains jisung and a burning lump forms in his throat.

he only has himself to blame though.

all his thoughts get casted aside as he feels his tip touch your throat. he wraps his arms around your ass, pulling you down so you're flush on his face. he buries his face in your cunt, licking and spitting, smearing and caressing. you bob your head up and down a few times before releasing him from your mouth. you stroke him as you spit on his tip and smear it in with your thumb so it mixes with his precum.

his hips buck as his dick throbs. he's sensitive. your touch is (and always has been) like fire to him. your mouth is once again on him, licking and sucking. it's sloppy and messy just how he likes it. 

whilst you suck, jisung pushes two of his fingers inside your aching core with ease due to your slick. your walls welcome him, hugging his fingers tightly as he thrusts them. you squeeze your eyes shut, basking in the pleasure that warms your body and veins. his tongue is latched onto your clit as he swirls it around and kitten licks it. his fingers hook and curl against your walls, pushing more inside until he brushes against your g-spot. 

when he does, your thighs shake and all your weight disappears. you pull from his cock, moaning in a breathy tone and asking for more. 

“j-jisung.. ji.. fuck!”

“my name sounds so beautiful when it rolls off your tongue.” he hums.

“m-more. please.”

“what do you want, baby? tell me.”

“i want you to fuck me.” you whimper. jisung hums and positions you on your back gently. he kneels between your legs, hands on your hips as he admires your body. 

he's been in this position with you many times before but today just feels different. it feels new, odd, strange but not bad. it feels like you two are having sex for the first time. everything feels like a dream, nothing is real and jisung is scared. he doesn't know what to do anymore.

as he reaches over to the bedside table for a condom, he is abruptly stopped by your hand grabbing his wrist. 

“no. no protection. i want to feel you, jisung.” he swallows thickly. he's always wanted to fuck you raw but for safety (and common sense) reasons, you've both been careful. 

“are you sure?” the tips of his ears burn red as you nod.

“yes.” you look to the side, avoiding his gaze as you mumble. “just do whatever you want.”

his heart shatters as he knows what you mean. he's been doing what he wants for months so why stop now? you sound so defeated, so energy less that it feels wrong. with a soft sigh, he grabs a condom, rips it open and rolls it onto his hard length.

“what are you doing?” 

“i can't do that.”

“why? you've always wanted to. i gave you permission to do so, so why are you not doing it?”

“yes, you gave me consent but it just doesn't feel right. i do want to fuck you raw and feel you but it just doesn't feel right. maybe next time?”

“next time?” you question with a raised brow. “there's going to be a next time?” jisung looks down and swallows. he doesn't say a word to which you sigh at. “just, hurry up and fuck me ji. i want to feel you still and have some fun. i still want to indulge you.”

“really?”

“really.”

with a nod, he guides his length to your entrance. you groan softly as he breaches you, stretching you in the process. he holds your waist tightly as you grip onto the sheets. you've forgotten how thick he is and how much the stretch burns, no matter how much jisung prepares you.

“fucking tight.” jisung says between laboured breaths. you hum as a response, breathing slowly as he pushes half his length inside. he stays to allow you to get used to his size, to allow the burn to subside. when it does, you give him the ok but he doesn't move.

you frown, repeating your ok again. his head is hanging low, his grip on you so tight. you lean up on your elbows for a better view.

“ji? are you ok?” your eyes widen when you hear the most painful, heart-breaking sob from him. a sound you've never heard from him before. a sound you wish to never hear. it makes your mind go blank, your heart to sink to your stomach for the nth time.

“'m sorry..” he whispers, tears dripping down his cheeks. “'m so so sorry.”

his voice cracks. he sounds so small, so vulnerable. tears blur your own vision before falling down your cheeks slowly.

“look at me.” he refuses so you repeat your sentence again, this time much more softly. he obeys, looking at you with tear stained cheeks and wet lashes.

“it'll be ok.” you say with a sad smile.

“no, it won't be! the damage is already done yn. i fucked up massively and my biggest fear will come true.”

“you only have yourself to blame ji. if you just told me about the drunken one night, then we could have got through it together and be ok again. but you went back to them, sober and willing. i was made to feel second best.”

“you're never second best to me, yn..”

“but i am. you didn't think about me when you left the house. you didn't think about me when you went to them. you didn't think about me when you fucked them. i am second best. you made me feel like i'm second best, ji.”

“i'm sorry. i know i keep repeating myself but i'm so terrible sorry! i'm the worst. i'm disgusting, a pig!”

“hey.” you reach up and wipe away his tears. “you fucked up, yes. massively if that, but that doesn't mean you should talk about yourself like that, darling. the jisung i know, the jisung i loved was kind, considerate, caring. you made me feel so alive and special.”

“i've become the man i hate.”

“one question.”

“mhm?”

“did you–” you swallow as you brace yourself. “did you enjoy it with the other person?”

“no.” jisung looks you square in the eyes. “it wasn't so much about the person as it was the thrill. i became addicted to it. i lost myself and in the process, i hurt you.” 

you nod before falling back onto your back. he's telling the truth. you've known him long enough to know if he is lying or not. however, this just made your decision much more difficult. if he had given you a different answer, it would've been much easier for you to leave.

but you're attached to him. attached to the way he makes you feel. attached to the memories, good and bad! he's everything to you and more. you don't want to leave him, you don't want to be alone. you want to spend your life with jisung because he is all you've ever known.

however, it wouldn't be fair on either of you. you won't be able to trust him, question his every move. he has patience but a person only has so much so how long will it be until you drive him away and lose him for good.

tears drip down the bridge of your nose as you think. your teeth digging into your bottom lip. you let out shaky breathes as you feel jisung lean over you and cup your cheeks gently.

your eyes lock with his. his tears dripping onto your cheeks and merging with yours.

“i love you.” he whispers. you swallow and shake your head.

“no you don't. if you did, you wouldn't have done what you've done. you wouldn't have made me feel like this.”

it hurts him, like a dagger to the heart but he understands where you're coming from. both consumed with negative thoughts, jisung holds your waist gently and sniffs.

“shall we?” he asks. you nod and close your eyes, waiting to be basked and filled with so much pleasure, it clouds your thoughts and masks your feelings.

jisung starts off slow and steady, picking up the pace once he hears your soft moans. the pleasure soon overrides the negativity as you (and jisung) become consumed with each other once again.

your gummy walls squeeze around his shaft. the sound of skin on skin and your soppy cunt mixing together with the breathy moans. you call for his name, reaching up for him. he leans down, pressing his chest against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

he pushes more of himself inside until he is balls deep. you nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his natural scent that mixed with the smell of sweat. jisung's hot breathes fan against your neck, his lips occasionally kissing your neck as he thrusts.

“feels good.” you moan softly.

“me too. you feel so good around me, yn. fuck, you feel so fucking amazing!” 

“keep going, please! don't stop.” you whine. he nods as his tip bumps against your g-spot. your body jerks and muscles twitch. each thrust, rub and bump of your insides brings you closer to the edge. you tighten around him, squeezing him tightly as your gut burns.

“it's ok. cum around my cock, yn.” he purrs before kneeling up. he holds your inners thighs far apart as he thrust fast. his gaze fixated on your cunt and the way it devours his cock. you whine and with a few more thrusts, you're calling out his name as your orgasm hits you.

your walls contract around jisung's length. your mind blank and back arching off the bed. it only takes a few more thrusts from jisung before he is trembling and emptying his cock into the condom.

once you're both calm and relaxed from the high, he pulls out slowly. he rolls the condom off, ties it and discards it in the trash. 

“want to shower together?” he asks, hopefully.

“um, no. i think i will shower after you.” jisung nods and gives you a sullen smile. as soon as the bathroom door closes, reality hits you like a bus.

you can't stop it. the pent up emotions finally overflow and spill. tears stream down your cheeks as you cry hard. you struggle to breath as you cry for the man you once loved and knew. you're so confused, mind fuzzy and muddled as you're unsure on what to do. 

you want him. you want him so badly but it pains you. you can't look at him without seeing him with them. without feeling like you will always be second best, like you'll never be enough.

jisung hears it all. he hears your broken wails and sobs and it pains him even more to know that he is the cause of your pain. if he could turn back time, back to when things were simpler, he would've never attended that stupid party that started all this. he only has himself to blame.

he's not a religious man but he prays that as soon as he is done in the shower; you will still be there. 

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 | uh, i have no words 🙈 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 (𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍) | @bintific ; @septicrebel ; @amyyscorner ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @lilquokka04 ; @myprwttyhan ; @fairylouist

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz angst #stray kids angst #jisung #han jisung #jisung smut #han jisung smut #jisung x you #jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

[mavrintarou]

[12:05 PM] Kuroo Tetsuro - A/B/O

I know you guys might have anticipated part 2 to Oikawa's story but I'm still finishing up on it! And to everyone who asked to be on the tag list - yes you all will be added and notified :) but here's a little distraction in the mean time...

Warning: explicit smut; A/B/O related explicit contents; Kuroo just being... Kuroo. .

Kuroo Tetsuro narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his favorite coworker.

Y/l/n Y/n has been quiet with him all morning, giving him a quiet greeting in the morning and completely and totally ignoring him. He wanted to tease her about her attire but something about her vibe made him think twice if he didn’t want to get chewed up.

Who wears a turtle neck top with an oversize sweater that topped it with a long cardigan? Was she that cold?

She had a serious expression every time he looked in her direction, and it was concerning to him, Y/n was always happy, cute, and adorable.

What really answered his assumption that she was ignoring him was when she dodged him smoothly down the hall when called out her name. As if she did not hear him call her name, she disappeared into the women’s bathroom. Tetsuro waited five minutes outside before walking away.

He looked down at his attire, does his suit smell? He swore he sprayed his cologne on.

Tetsuro couldn’t find Y/n during lunch, normally, they all ate lunch together but she was not at the table.

“Where is Y/n?” Tetsuro asked setting his tray down. The spot across from him was usually where Y/n sat, it made it easier for them to trade food every day but today the spot was empty.

Val motioned he had a mouthful of food and swallowed, “she went home, I don’t think she is feeling good.”

Tetsuro nodded before taking out his phone out. You okay? He texted.

No response.

The rest of the day, Tetsuro was antsy. He felt hot and then cold. He noticed his sense of smell had become more sensitive all of sudden. He tugged his tie loose to the point it was hanging off around his neck. The first four top buttons unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbow.

“I’m leaving,” he announced, his suit jacket was in his hand, and he was out the office doors before anyone could respond to him.

.

He knew where Y/n lived.

Of course he would, he was her superior.

He knocked, more like pounded on her door. “Y/n, it’s me, Tetsuro.”

No response.

“Just…” he pleaded, desperately. “Are you okay? Talk to me… please?”

His phone vibrated, a text message coming through.

I’m fine, I’m good, I’ll be better in a few days. Please leave.

“No, I need to see it for myself that you’re truly okay!” he shouted, not caring that the neighbor could hear.

Tetsuro, if you must really know, I’m in heat. Leave. Now.

His eyes scanned her message five times.

His heart pounded against his chest loudly and his throat feels dry.

“Let… let me help you.”

No.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/n. You can trust me.”

Tetsuro can see the text bubble but it would appear and disappear.

“You can trust me, Y/n. Let me help you.”

You shouldn’t trust me.

“I trust you. You know that.” He pounded on the door again, “Y/n!”

She wasn’t texting him anymore.

Tapping on her contact, he called her.

It rang.

And rang.

Pick up the call, he texted.

He called her again.

It rang.

And rang.

Just when he was about to text her again, the other line clicked. “Y/n! Open this door now.”

“I dreamed about you.” Her voice was quiet. “This morning I dreamed about you and… I’m so ashamed. I need you to respect me and leave, Tetsuro.”

His blood shot down south to his groin, of all times, he felt himself get hard just at the sound of her calling his first name. She never called him by his first name before.

It was always Kuroo-san.

“I like you, Y/n. I like you romantically. I have liked you for a long time… it makes me feel happy… excited that you dreamed about me because…” he knocked his head against her door, “I dream about you all the fucken time.”

Tetsuro jumps when he hears the door click and steps back as the door cracks revealing Y/n, with flushed cheeks, kissable lips and reeking sweet aroma.

The door slammed shut behind him as he enters her place, he barely taken off his shoes before he already grasped her face in his large hands and brought her lips to his to kiss her hungrily.

He backed her into the hallway, and she bumped into the wall before he spared her lips for a second, “I’ve imagined this for so long…”

Her eyes drop to his lips, and she leaned forward to peck his lips before biting down on his lower lip.

The one hand resting beside her head was ready to puncture through the wall as he restrained himself.

Tetsuro has imagined many times about kissing her. With their height difference too, she would have to really push herself on the tip of her toes to reach his lips.

But at this moment, he was desperate and was bending down to meet her lips.

His hand grope her waist, finding the end of her shirt and sliding his palm underneath and the feeling of her hot skin against his only drove him crazy. He cupped her breasts and tweak her nipples, tugging and twisting.

Her soft moans urged him and ignited the flames inside of him.

“I need you,” he mumbled against her lips. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned when her barely covered pussy pressed against his bulge. If he could only get rid of his slacks and her shorts, he could slip himself easily into her. He could feel her heat searing. “Bed… bedroom… tell me where your bedroom is?”

“Down the hall, first door to the left…” she murmured against his neck, nipping and sucking the skin there.

With his long strides, he kicked open the door and move to set her on the bed. He doesn’t wait, pressing a hand down her chest to tell her to stay down while he slips off her shorts and the moment the last barrier is stripped away, her sweet scent hits him with full force.

He takes a whiff of her scent and groans before spreading her thighs apart and devouring her pussy like a sacred ripe fruit.

“Mine,” he growl, slurping and licking. “You’re mine…” forever.

No one will touch what is his…

Y/n moaned and squirm under his touch, “more…” she begged, she tugged off her shirt, touching her chest. “More…”

Tetsuro looked up while sucking her clit and thrusting two fingers inside of her at the same time. When two of his fingers slipped in easily, he added a third to stretch her out. She was so wet and so accommodating that he knew she was made for him.

Her hips tremble as he suckled her dry. “Tetsu!”

His tongue continued to flicker against her swollen nub until she as pushing his head away, crying from overstimulation.

Tetsuro smiled in satisfaction, stepping away to allow his sacred fruit to recharge as he takes off his clothes.

He is surprised by the scowl on her face as she sit upright and tug his wrist as soon as he was naked like her. He fell on top of her and the touch of skin against skin was enough for them both to lose all senses and give into nothing but passion.

She flipped him onto his back and straddled his thighs. As if she wasn’t already driving him mad, she teased him more, riding his left thigh.

“I dreamed about stroking you and sucking you off… and then before I woke up…” she runs her palm against his chest and rubs his pucker nipple between her finger tips. “You fucked me hard from behind…” She crawled forward until her mouth was centimeters away from his. “Can you make my dream come true?”

Tetsuro stared into her eyes, “anything you want, baby.”

She smiled, the smile he loves so much. She scooted back and takes his long cock into her hand; her hand alone couldn’t wrap fully around. She stroke him and taking in just the tip into her mouth.

She showed him no mercy by immediately taking him as far as she could, feeling him hit the back of her throat.

It was his turn to squirm under her touch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he swore, covering his face. “This is so good… you’re too good… fuck… your mouth, baby…” He groans, “baby… please… give me your pheromones.”

This should be about her, but Tetsuro felt like he was the one in rut.

His cock twitched inside her mouth as soon as he is hit with her pheromones.

It is beyond what he could have ever imagine.

He would gladly drown in it for the rest of his life.

Never sharing this… no, he can’t even bare the thoughts of letting her go now.

“’nough…” he taps her cheek, “let me fuck you from behind now… please…”

Y/n mouth lets his hard cock go with a pop sound and shifts off of him to position herself on her hands and knees. Tetsuro comes from behind and he stares down at Y/n, waiting for him.

She looks over her shoulders at him and as soon as she felt it, his alpha pheromones, she submitted, pushing her ass higher and giving herself to him.

He runs his large hand down her lower back to her shoulder blades, “tell me, Y/n… tell me you’re mine…”

“I’m yours, yours Tetsuro…”

God, he loved how she said his name. It was as if it was hers now, he is hers.

He smiled, “and I’m yours, Y/n. Yours only.”

She rest her head on the bed, smiling. “Breed me, breed me by the end of the night... make me yours as you promise.”

He was not in rut, but that doesn’t mean the chance of breeding her while she was in heat was impossible.

Tetsuro would have to wait for his next rut to knot her and if she wasn’t already breed then, he would breed her with his knot and mark her.

“I shall,” he promise and slides his cock into her pussy in one thrust.

He takes a few second to allow them both to come adjust. His cock is cuddled warmly and softly inside her pussy, and he never wants to be anywhere else.

He grips her hips and starts thrusting, long and hard strokes.

Her moans echo her room with the sound of skin slapping skin. Her fingers grip tightly against her comforters, holding tightly against his thrusts.

Tetsuro drapes over her, rutting as if he too is in rut. The tip of his cock is so sensitive that every time it touches the opening of her cervix, it sends shivers down his cock. His sacks, heavy with cum bounces and smacks her clit with each thrust. His nose trails along her shoulder until he can smell where her sweet scent is most radiant and as soon as he finds the spot that is emitting, he licks the spot before his teeth chomped down.

The mark wouldn’t be permanent, but it was a good enough temporary mark for now.

Her whimper and cry of his name pushed him close to the edge and Tetsuro releases the skin and withdraws, flipping her onto her back.

A hand combs his damp hair back and out of his eyes, Tetsuro’s half hooded gaze falls on Y/n’s tear streaked face. Happy tears.

“I want to see your face as I cum inside of you…” he widens her legs before teasing the tip of his cock pass her folds and gently thrusting fully. He hovers over her, keeping their eyes locked as he makes sweet love to her.

Y/n cup his face, thumb rubbing his cheeks, “I… I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers in returned, “I love you too…”

Tears slip from the corner of her eyes, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t cry…”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close.

His arms slip behind her knees and pushed her knee further into the bed, feeling his cock sank deeper.

“So close… so close – gonna cum… going to breed you…” he muttered hotly into her ear. He pounded into her thrice before his hips shake with spasm.

“Tetsu…” her weak cries resonance as she filled hotly with his cum to the point she feels the overspill. “Wait… too much…”

Tetsuro chuckles and pulls back to look down at her, “there’s no such thing as too much…” he kissed the tip of her nose. He shifts down to her chest, taking a whole mound into his mouth, swirling his tongue against her nipple.

He winced at her squeezing around his sensitive cock that he lets go. He admires how red the nipple has become under his mouth. His palm squeezes both her breasts, “I want these filled with so much milk.”

At his own statement, he feels the last ejaculation and convulse.

“How… how do you cum so much?” Y/n asked innocently, wincing at being filled to the brim. She pressed a hand to her lower abdomen, feeling the bulge.

Sitting upright, he leans back and slowly withdraw and immediately his cum gushes out.

“If I am correct, this is nothing compared to when I knot you…”

Her eyes widen. “You will cum even more then this?”

“Well, yes, if I don’t successfully breed you now, when I am in rut – my knot will surely impregnant you.”

.

Val looked at Tetsuro and Y/n suspiciously as they enter the room together a few days later. “Why… do you two… look…”

Tetsuro lifts his hand, the hand that’s intertwined with Y/n’s, “we’re together now.”

. . .

E/n: Believe it or not, Kuroo was my first HQ love... lol and then it became Sakusa and Suna... I have a thing for these dark hair 2D men.

>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo smut #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x y/n #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction

[cockslutpadalecki]

But The Flesh Is Always Weak

Summary: It’s been a week since Andy broke things off, but to you, it feels like a lifetime.

Characters: Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, possessive behaviour, unhinged behaviour, gaslighting, manipulation, a face slap, throat grabbing, hate sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), forced orgasm, throat fucking, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: The last visit to these two… well, for now. Thought I’d had better get round to posting this! You can read the rest of their story here. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

It’s only been a week since Andy broke things off, citing, “You should be dating boys your own age,” but it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime spent in hell. 

Every passing minute hurts. Every waking thought is plagued by his words and his touch on your skin. You drive yourself crazy, crying to the point of exhaustion before you wake up and do it all over again. 

You can’t eat; you can’t sleep. Your chest aches with every breath you take without him, and quite often as you clutch at it in the midst of another breakdown, you wonder if dying from a broken heart is possible. 

You shuffle through each day like a zombie, mindless with no real destination in mind— just wandering around waiting for something to distract you. 

It’s not until you get an email from him nine days in— addressed not only to you, but the Dean— that the agony seems to lessen slightly at the sight of his name. 

“I’m reaching out as you haven’t been to class for the past week and a half. I’m growing concerned for your wellbeing as this is just not like you. Please get in touch as soon as possible.”

It becomes an olive branch that you obsess over, desperately trying to seek out any hidden message he could be attempting to send. But after days of searching, you have nothing to show for your efforts and you begin to resent him. 

Anger bubbles up in place of your heartache— a strange sense of still needing him like you need air, but at the same time, wishing you could hurt him just as badly as he has hurt you. 

You can’t believe he has the audacity to show concern like he’s not solely responsible for shattering your world into a million tiny irreparable pieces, without a shred of noticeable apathy.

-

The driving force that propels you to attend his class surprises even you. You wake before your alarm, eager to dress in the outfit you excitedly picked the night before. Your stomach flutters as you walk through campus, feeling the most clear-headed you have in days. You can’t wait to see him. 

You feel a little giddy at the prospect of seeing evidence of the breakup on his face— perhaps red-rimmed eyes or melancholy preventing his smile from reaching his lips, but he somehow looks better now than before.

He doesn’t bat an eyelid when you slink into the hall while he’s mid-speech. He barely acknowledges your presence when you hand him your overdue essay; a secret love note slipped in between the pages just like you used to do. 

But what stings the most is that he doesn’t stop you from leaving when class is over. It’s like you don’t exist. Like the past nine months meant nothing, along with the litany of promises he’s already broken. 

He’s doing fine and you’re not? How is that fair? your mind screams as you glance over your shoulder, catching Rebecca hovering around his desk like a common house fly, buzzing around shit. 

You pause in the doorway, your stomach dropping like lead when Andy finally approaches her, and places his hand delicately on her arm.

And as he flashes her a wide grin, all of the momentum inside you deflates— the hurt and pain he has caused you morphs into pure rage.

-

The following evening, you know he’ll be alone at home. Five times you try to talk yourself out of going, but the overriding consensus eventually wins— he won’t be able to turn you away on his own doorstep. You just want to talk to him. 

Maybe ask if he’s replaced you with Rebecca yet. 

You pull up outside his neighbors’ and switch off the engine, gathering up the courage to get out when you notice movement at the front door. Andy steps outside, but he’s not alone. 

You’ve only seen her— his wife— in photographs, and you actually hate that she’s more beautiful in person. Part of you wonders why Andy would betray her, but then you remember all of the horror stories he would tell you. 

Her beauty is only skin deep. 

From the things you know about their relationship— how strained it is— it surprises you when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her hair as they walk to his car. They’re laughing, smiling without a care in the world. From this vantage point, they look and act like newlyweds. You feel sick as you keep watching, noticing the way he gently pats her ass when she climbs into the passenger seat. 

The same passenger seat you’ve sat in countless times on drives back from secret trysts in dingy motel rooms, while your cunt still throbs.

Just before he gets into the car, he looks over his shoulder and for a wild moment, you swear he locks eyes with you from across the street.

-

He’s brought her here. The same place you used to have dinner. For a moment it feels like a knife wound to the heart that he would have the audacity to share this with her, but then you realise he has to be sending you a message. He must know you’ve followed him and he’s trying to communicate with you covertly so as not to draw attention to it.

Your stomach flutters, feeling a heavy sense of relief wash over you. 

He still cares. He still wants you.

For an hour, you sit in the parking lot before you regret drinking so much soda on your way here, needing desperately to pee. You know you could go to the mall across the street, but your feet pull you towards the restaurant before you can stop them. 

You make your way to the restroom, careful to avoid their table, and just as you’re about to leave, you spot Andy making his way towards you. Your heart leaps into your chest and you double back, waiting for the moment he’ll come bursting in, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of you. 

Nothing but silence follows, except for the dull thud of the men’s door opening and closing. 

Naughty. He wants you to go to him. 

Giggling, you sneak out of the women’s and push open the door to the men’s restroom, confused a little when you don’t spot Andy at the urinals. You’re about to retreat when you hear his familiar whistle, remembering all the mornings after the night before where you’d wake up to the sound of him in the en suite, whistling his favorite tune. 

He knows you’re listening. Dropping breadcrumbs in the hopes you’ll follow the trail right to his feet. And as you slip through the small gap between the door and frame, you hungrily swallow down every piece.

-

You wait until he’s finished in the stall before making yourself known. You don’t want to frighten him but as he begins to turn in the small space, ready to leave, he spots you in the doorway and nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“Jesus, what the fuck!” he half shouts, half whispers. 

“Oh god, I missed you,” you gush. Andy stares wide-eyed at you when you rush towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You inhale deeply and revel in his familiar smell, the scent enveloping you like a hazy dream. It feels so good to be so close to him again. Pulling back, you gaze up at him before rising onto your tiptoes, preparing to place a kiss on his lips. 

He quickly intervenes, pushing you away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you so I went to your office, but you weren’t there so I thought I’d go by your house,” you reply simply, like he’s just asked you what two plus two is. 

“Th-that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

You shrug. “I saw you getting in the car, so I followed you.”

“Why would you do that?” 

“I wanted to see where you were going, silly,” you giggle. “Bet you couldn’t imagine my surprise when you brought her to our place,” you add a little sharply.

“Actually, I used to come here…” he pauses before continuing with, “y’know, before.”

The metaphorical knife in your chest twists at his words, but you manage to recover quickly. 

“It’s okay,” you smile, “I can let that go.” 

You reach out for his hand, loving the softness, but inexplicably rough of his skin on yours. He allows it for a moment, running his thumb over yours before snatching it away. 

“You can’t be here.” 

“Afraid she’ll catch us?” you sidle up to him with a cute laugh. “Is this a new thing you want us to try?” Gently, you cup him through his pants and a wave of heat ripples through your gut. Andy hisses, his cock stirring against you as you squeeze gently, encouraging it to swell. “C’mon, don’t you remember the risks we used to take?” You rise up again, kissing the underside of his bottom lip. Even his beard feels amazing brushing across your chin.

He snaps, yelling, “No!” as he pushes you away, yet again. 

Sudden hot tears gather in your eyes at his outburst and a horrid realization sets in. “Have you really moved on already?” 

“How can I move on from something we never really had in the first place?” he brutally admits.

Ouch.

“But you promised me the world,” you start tearfully, “why would you choose her over me?”

Andy’s brow furrows. “She’s my wife.”

So? “That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me in her bed.”

White hot pain explodes across your cheek as the sound of the slap follows. Your hand shoots up to cradle the area, your skin throbbing. Fresh tears form as you try to stop yourself from crying with a loud sniff.

Andy steps to you, covering your hand with his. You’ve never seen him look so apologetic, even after he dumped you. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— that was wrong.” 

You stare up at him, wide-eyed as he comforts you, asking if you’re okay. You just nod slowly, unable to find the words. This is what you needed to prove he still cares. 

“What we did, we shouldn’t have done,” he says softly. “I took advantage of you.” 

“Was it really taking advantage when I wanted you too?”

Andy smiles kindly, stroking your hand with his thumb. “I can’t give you what you want. You need someone who will treat you like you deserve.” 

“Why would I want anybody else?” you counter back with a shake of your head.

He lifts his hand from yours and places them both on his hips with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s hard to get over somebody you care about, but with time, it will get easier.” He reaches out, tenderly rubs your bicep as a form of comfort. He looks awkward doing it, like he’s afraid to touch you, when he’s touched you— fucked you in more intimate places than most boys would even be able to find on a map. 

Is he recounting that from experience? Is he telling you he’s not really over you either despite his insistence he is?

“I don’t want time, I don’t want it to get easier. I just want you.” 

Andy rubs his fingers into his eyes and lets go of an exasperated huff. “Listen to me,” he glances up, lips tight in a frown, “I’ve tried to be nice about it, but this is the last time I’m gonna say this. We’re over.”

Your cheek smarts as your jaw tightens and the rage you’ve managed to suppress bubbles up. “Then I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone you hit me.” 

He stares down at you in contempt for the first time ever, his features twisted in disgust. “That was an accident, I didn’t mean to do it, you know that.” 

“Was it though?” You give him a teasing pout. “‘Mr. Barber came onto me, slapped me when I said no’,” you put on a sad voice before it returns to normal. “Sounds like an open and shut case to me.” 

“Don’t you understand how damaging those accusations would be?” he spits, incensed. “I would lose my job, my marriage, everything.” 

You smile at him, giddy. “But then we could be together for real! No college to prosecute you for fucking a student and she’d divorce you, it’s perfect.”

The ire on Andy’s face contorts into sheer bafflement. “You crazy bitch, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” He tries to shuffle past you, but you block his way. “Get out of my way before I move you myself.” 

“What are you going to do, Sir?” you taunt. “Hit me again?” 

He lunges forward, hand wrapped around your throat and forces you up against the wall of the stall. “Don’t tempt me,” he breathes out heavily, gazing down at your body until his eyes meet yours once again. “Why I ever thought getting involved with you was a good idea, I’ll never know.” 

“Because, and I quote, ‘no other pussy could ever come close’,” you manage to croak out from beneath his grip. Reaching out, you cup him through his pants and he hisses between gritted teeth. 

Andy swats your hand away, but you quickly grab hold of his, shoving it beneath the hem of your dress. You let out a moan as his fingers brush up against your damp panties. 

You see the way Andy’s eyes flicker at the contact, the slight loss of control when his fingers flex around your throat. You move his hand up and down your clothed cunt, letting go of tiny whimpers as flames of heat begin burning through your core. 

“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.”

His jaw ticks like he’s fighting with himself, growling under his breath as you use his hand to pluck your panties to the side. 

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you purr. “Show me how much you’ve missed my tight little cunt.”

Closing his eyes, he mutters, “Stop,” but makes no attempt to pull away. 

He wants this just as much as you. 

And when you finally manipulate his fingers inside you, you can feel the resistance ebb as he starts to fight for control and eventually you let go, confident in the knowledge he’s not going to pull away. You reach for him and unzip his pants, the warmth of his cock meeting your fingertips as you slip your hand inside the gap.

“Remember how good I used to make you feel,” you whisper with delicacy. 

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at you the entire time, face tight with disdain as the sloppy wet sounds of your cunt fill the tiny stall. Legs trembling, you can feel your orgasm beginning to crest. The pressure in your gut becomes too much. You push at his hand to move it away, but Andy doesn’t stop.

“No. You wanted this, so you’re gonna come,” he tells you sharply. “Do it.” 

“I c-can’t.” 

“You will.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a wet kiss as he presses the base of his palm against your clit, and you unravel like a spool of thread. 

You’re still coming as he removes his hands from your body, hurriedly lifting you up around his waist. He’s inside you in one swift stroke, stuffing you to the brim for a split second before he’s pulling back out. 

He fucks you like he hates you. Mean, hard thrusts that push you back against the stall until your spine physically aches from the force. You embrace it— every bruise, every welt— the pain reminds you of how close you came to losing him, and you promise yourself that it won’t happen again.

Another wave of heat builds steadily beneath your skin, tingling all the way down to your toes. This time, you welcome the overstimulation, squirting all over his cock with a heady moan. 

“Oh fuck,” he growls into the juncture of your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. “God, holy shit.” Andy roughly pulls out, and drops you to your feet. He tugs on his dick as you move to kneel before him, presenting your tongue like a dog waiting for a treat. 

Andy grabs your hair, tugging hard on the roots as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat and you gag from the lack of warning. He fucks your mouth, exploding messily across your tongue with a strained grunt, stray droplets of cum spilling out from the corner of your lips, unable to lick them away. 

Your throat throbs when he retreats, and blessed air rushes back into your lungs with an almighty whoosh. Eventually, he loosens his grip on your skull and leans into the stall with his palm, eyes firmly closed. His breathing is still jagged and unsteady as he repeats, “fuck,” to himself as the enormity of the situation comes crashing down around him. 

Finally, his eyes flicker open, the pure disgust and conviction returning to his expression as he stares down at you, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“This is it,” he states curtly. You slowly rise to your feet in the small gap, leaning in to kiss him but he pulls back. 

“Don’t be like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You used to love tasting yourself on my lips.”

His jaw tightens in frustration as he snaps, “I mean it,” and your name rolls off his tongue like molasses.

“Okay,” you smirk with a light shrug, triumphant that despite his insistence, you know it won’t be. You have leverage and Andy, of all people, should know that's the golden ticket. You slip from the stall without another word, taking a moment to check yourself out in the mirror before turning to press a finger to your lips. Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open without bothering to check if anyone is around before sauntering out, a little limp new to your gait. 

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @kellhems @ladybug05 @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wintasssoldier @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @chibijusstuff @callsignrambam @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @wayward-dreamer @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #defending jacob fanfiction #dark!reader #chris evans fanfiction

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1111 - Initial Thoughts

The chapters are taking longer and longer to come out it seems, but One Piece finally dropped its final chapter before another 3 week hiatus.

It's a shame, but it's an understandable route, I think we all had the urge to wrap Oda in bubble wrap after Akira Toriyama's saddening death, everyone has to process it their own way.

Regardless, we have a chapter still to get through, so let's see where we're leaving things?

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release

A colour spread of chips (or fries for you Americans) and jellyfish with the crew, Kuma, Vegapunk and Bonney, of course Bonney wants more after eating her own

Marcus Mars indeed has breached the Labosphere and Jinbe, sensing the haki, wants to get out now

Zoro's not quite content though, Lucci is beaten but not down

Scarred now at the front, Lucci still stands, angry but stumbling over to the two

With time of the essence Jinbe grabs Zoro and uses a 5,000 Brick Fist to propel them away

I'm sure Sanji stans and Anti-Zoro fans will have a field day of 'Zoro didn't beat Lucci' but guys he looks plenty beat, just because they get up again after being knocked out doesn't mean he's not beat, else we're gonna have to say that Mihawk never beat Zoro or Luffy never beat Enel

Like the moment they left he collapses back into human form

And then proceeds to shit bricks seeing Mars, asking for status on York

The loyal dog (or cat) he is he does give Mars the rundown; York is in the control room, the 5 straw hats above are seeking escape through the south when Zoro and Jinbe reconvene, 2 Vegapunks are up here, 85 CP agents and 4 Seraphim in the basement and 6 minutes before Vegapunk's message

Though, a rare show of sentiment from Rob Lucci, as he requests that Kaku - heavily injured in the control room - be recovered

Also worth noting that if Kaku's bandaged like this it likely means Chopper healed him after he was wrecked by at least S-Hawk

Mars however makes no guarantees, already planning to 'wipe out the nest'

Back to Luffy we see him reunite with the giants

Dorry and Brogy seem to think that Luffy's taking the image of the Sun God rather than actually being Nika

Warcury and Saturn are once again taken aback by the appearance of giants

Sanji has been relaying the messages, having told the giants to help Luffy with escaping

Kinda strange though because Sanji was very isolated for Little Garden, having that little coffee break chatting with Crocodile and breaking the Unluckies' necks, but sure enough

We have a map too, though Oda made sure not to mark any of the Gorosei

Dorry blows a horn, signalling that they got to Luffy, which pulls the giants into a tactical retreat

Warcury readies a retort though, blowing his own 'horn' with a yell of Conqueror's Haki

A yell so powerful it popped most of Luffy's features off his body, including his scar!

But naturally toon force means he can put it back together, he's literally holding his eye scar

'Some Government Big Shot' is so funny when you consider that Luffy literally doesn't know who the five godheads of the world government are

Warcury's got flips too, looking to attack with the horns, but the giants block each tusk with their shields

Warcury's tusks seem to have the definition of swords now, I wonder if that's linked to his powers

He asks for backstory on why the giants are loyal to him and to that we say 'read pre-Timeskip'

A double shield bash knocks the Topman to the bottom

Of all things disturbing about Saturn, seeing his mouth is probably the most disturbing

Much like Magellan, he fires pellets of poison at the trio

Luffy, resourceful and once more entering Toon Force, grabs a palm tree, eats it like a corn on a cob, and paints it into a baseball bat - complete with helmet - both adorned with Go-Mu (56) on it

Ayyyy batter batter swing batter!

Expecting the venom to just hit the Gorosei on the return, Luffy's surprised to see them explode like nukes

The opening is there to leave, but Luffy points out to Brogy that the Gorosei aren't beat, they can't die

Everyone's in a rush to get ready; Luffy, Dorry and Brogy are on the move, Sanji is still running and carrying Vegapunk's corpse, Jinbe is running and carrying Zoro's reluctant ass, everyone but Nami is pulling the Sunny back in position

But Bonney has 3 vice admirals waiting for her

Might be unwise to put yourselves between a long boat of giants and more giants though ngl

Mars finds York though, still trapped and now panicking because a monster is asking her where the room the transmission is coming from

Kizaru meanwhile is being tended to, but he claims his wounds 'run deep' - basically he's thrown in the towel

But through the flames it finally arrives, the giant mecha, unfazed by the elements, bigger than a giant, and it speaks

'Joy Boy, forgive me'

Jeez Joy Boy must have lived in an age of regrets because every time we meet something or someone from his time they have something they regret or are apologizing for; Zunesha, the Nefertari family, Joy Boy themselves, now the sleeping giant? I guess in a way it's kinda poetic, they lived in an era where their dreams couldn't come true, so they live in regret, in darkness, until the dawn rises once more.

As for the rest, I know some people will be miffed that Lucci survived, but it serves as a necessity for Mars to get where he's going, and like I said before he's practically out, even Jinbe says that the fight is already won and I doubt Jinbe would lie. When we first started this portion of the arc I was 100% expecting Luffy and co to have left the island by this chapter, but it seems more like it's the beginning of the final phase, the fights leading to escape much like Enies Lobby and Sabaody did. At the least it seems Mars is more occupied with the transmission than the Straw Hats but his priorities can change, plus he can still activate the Seraphim after them instead. V. Nusjuro - who like Ju Peter was quiet this chapter, given how they both got more shine in the previous one - is still circling the island too, which can still lead to a Sanji confrontation, but I'm more eager to see Franky hopefully get some shine against the Vice Admirals; Nine Chins et al don't seem to be the proper threat in terms of VAs though with Bluegrass and Doll hovering around, plus we did see Tosu get bonked by a giant in one hit so I'm not expecting them to go far.

Watching Luffy go full Toon Force is a joy though - pun intended - it's just delightful rubberhose creativity straight outta Tom & Jerry, even gnawing some wood into a baseball bat is classic stuff, so for me it works in comedy and nostalgia. I might die if he paints a tunnel only he and his friends can run through.

We didn't get much word on Vegapunk's transmission and we won't for quite some time now, but I would like to hope that Vegapunk's smart enough to know where the government would look first. I know there's theories that Dragon has the main signal but I feel like it'd have to exist somewhere more akin to a tree in the forest in order to piggyback off of government Den Den Mushi connectivity, if Dragon had that kinda access he probably would've used it more for intelligence. But it's not something I'm too attached towards being wrong about.

Hope Oda gets some rest and stays healthy, if there's one thing we as fans are known for it is indeed our ability to wait.

#one piece #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #egghead island #egghead island arc #straw hat pirates #gorosei #cp0 #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #jinbe #jimbei #giant warrior pirates #dorry and brogy #saint marcus mars #saint jay garcia saturn #saint topman warcury #jewelry bonney #gear fifth #rob lucci #kaku one piece #joy boy

[heeracha]

ep 13. / ep 14. — the late night at the flower shop. / ep 15.

buy one, take me. — l. heeseung

synposis: with his best friend asking him for help because said best friend was scared he wasn't "boyfriend material" enough, heeseung looks for flower shops for his best friend's girlfriend. thankfully, jake knows someone from the university who has an aunt that owns a flower shop, you. now, heeseung messages you and shyly, but shamelessly asks if he can get any promos or discounts to which you shamelessly answered him, "buy one, take me". heeseung doesn't pass on this, of course. after all, you are pretty damn cute.

pairing: heeseung x flortist!fem!reader

content/genre: college au, slowburn, fluff, angst and crack, smau.

warning(s): swearing, of course. two idiots aka heey/n. more of sulking heeseung !! unproofread :>

note: i think this is a cute chapter tho :( i like them ngl 😭 see u chap 15 tomorrow <3 also,,,, im actually almost done writing the entire thing

r u busy?

where r u?

you gently place down the flowers on the table, grabbing your phone as you text heeseung back. 

flower shop, why?

it was stated that he read the message, but you don’t see the bubble with three dots and you let him be as you pick up the flowers and continue to arrange it. you cut out the excessive leaves to make it look clean as a few minutes pass by, you hear a soft humming of a car outside and it turns off right away. you hear soft knocks on the glass door and you look up to see heeseung with a sad expression.

you sigh, frowning as you go to him, unlocking the door. heeseung comes in, hugging you by the waist as you take him in your arms. “what’s up?” you ask.

“jaycha.” he mumbles on your neck and you softly laugh to which he rolls his eyes. “don’t let it get to your head, i still think it was lame.” he says and you nod. heeseung pulls away and you lock the door behind him. 

“so, wanna tell me what happened?” you ask, walking back to the table as you continue to arrange the flowers you have. once done, you put it away and wait for it to be picked up.

“we decided to watch a movie,” heeseung says. “i reluctantly said yes because if i say no, it might be suspicious because it’s been weeks and i keep declining their invitations to hang out with them. but in the middle of the movie, they were being lovey-dovey, and just, you know? gross.”

“gross because it’s not you.” you say and heeseung looks at you with no expression because he knows you’re right. you shrug and heeseung sighs.

“you had dinner yet?” he asks and you shake your head. “wanna go out?”

“i still have to wait for this to be picked up.” you say, pointing at the bouquet you just finished arranging. 

“i thought you’re already closed,” heeseung says.

“yeah, but… they want to pick it up and i’m still here, nothing to do, so why not?” you say and heeseung nods. 

“so, how did you learn to arrange them?” he asks.

“ever since i was five or six, i’m always here watching my aunt arrange and then she noticed how i always watch so she taught me.” you say, shrugging. “i think when we graduate, i can stay here for a year to work and then, i don’t know.”

heeseung nods. “do you… want to?” you softly ask and he looks at you.

“learn how to arrange?” he asks and you shrug, nodding. “yeah, teach me while we wait for your customer.” he says and you hum.

“any color you want?” you ask.

“purple,” he answers right away and you nod, grabbing some purple flowers and some white ones to compliment it. you put it on the table and heeseung smiles enthusiastically as you explain how to do so. but of course, heeseung was a little stubborn so he would go against your word and put the flowers anywhere he thought would look good. when it was done, you cross your arms on your chest, looking at it as heeseung grins. it wasn’t symmetrical, some were almost falling off, it was just really messy. “give me a break, it’s my first time.” he says as he taps the florette of a daisy.

you softly push his hand. “hey, the flower’s going to be sad,” you softly say, which made heeseung smile even wider. “if you did what i told you to do, it wouldn’t look like a preschooler did it, which i bet would have done better than you.” you say and heeseung laughs, softly bumping his hip with yours. you hear a knock and you turn around to see a man in a suit. you ran to the door, unlocking it and running back to the counter.

“please tell me that’s not mine.” he says, pointing at heeseung’s flower arrangement. you softly smile, shaking your head as you hold out the flowers he arranged. he paid for it, greeting you and heeseung a good night as he leaves. you look at heeseung who has a small pout, resisting his laughter.

“don’t worry,” you softly say. “i’d buy it, as long lee heeseung was the one who arranged it.” you wink and he laughs, shaking his head. “ae-cha would buy them.”

heeseung shakes his head. “not when jay’s there. no.” he softly says and you open your arms as he takes in your comfort with no hesitation.

au taglist [open]: @jongsaengseong @fairybangtan @viagumi @nyfwyeonjun @msxflower @cyuuupid @pluviophilefangirl @denyelee @tomorrowbymoa-together @sophhloaff @duolingofanaccount @precioussoulofmine @lhsng @deeznutsriki @starzvrse @atrirose @aalwaysreading @yabukkura @artstaeh @rrinsluvr @j4d @taeyongslilkitty @andii711 @markleepooh @poipoi01 @enhasengene @jjongsha @hannabugblog @raimbows4u @calumsfringe @kunhye @sodafy @skyvwonie @wtfhyuck @sungookie @leeis @kimmchijjajang @tnyhees @fadingera @lost-leopard-beanie @sonjuyeonnie @sim-kissed @vantxx95 @xyxlyn @harperwasstaken1 @maybee-may @liliansun @heeliopheelia @nomurahayami @ang3lpxtch @renaishun @cupidrwm @ckline35

#i saw someone comment that they dont know how to feel about botm!jay but i honestly think you'll love him botm!jay #Hiraya-M #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen socmed au #enhypen fluff #enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen social au #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung reactions #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smau #heeseung soft hours #heeseung social media au

[bagofburntcreampuffs]

ʀʜʏᴛʜᴍ ɪɴ ᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ

Just a minute before ★

« previous · masterpost · audition over »

➼ now playing...crossing a bridge

It’s finally Friday, the day you were honestly kind of dreading. You’ve been trying to calm yourself down by saying ‘Auditioning is fun! I’ll be fine.’ or something along the lines of that to calm your nerves. But nothing is truly working. Azul has surprisingly been kind to you during your time of stress, of course, he understood you well. The twins had other ways of trying to calm you down. As much as you love those two. eating mushrooms and chasing down Riddle doesn’t exactly help calm your nerves. 

Then Ace was such a prick during the time Friday was about to arrive, asking you how you felt when you were just about to relax and forget about it. It’s like he knew when you were finding peace in yourself. You can only name a handful of times when your friend group tried their best to support you during this stressful week of anxiety and this bubbling feeling down in your stomach, only for it to become much worse. 

Yuuken was the kindest in your opinion, helping when you asked and being patient. Praise that man! You clasp your hands together and blow onto them with the warmth of your breath. Your hands feel much colder like you were back in the ocean. Walking down the halls reaching to class 2-B you pulled down your headphones and checked the flurry of messages that suddenly appeared on your phone screen. 

A sense of relief passed you as you read and answered the messages. You open up the door to class 2-B to be greeted by the regular band members, and at least five more students who are sitting on the side of the room. Kalim gives you a bright smile before rushing towards you. “You’re here!”

“Hi. Sorry, did I come a little late?”

“No no! You just got here in time, they already decided in what order they wanted to go by though. You’ll be singing last if you don’t mind?” Kalim responds as he drags you to his bandmates.

"Great, of course, I had to be last.” You thought to yourself while internally groaning. “No, that's fine!” You lied, of course, you care. Being last is the worst because most people pay attention to you more. Maybe that isn’t true, after all once it’s the last presentation you’re more focused on the time than the one talking. You try to reason with yourself to calm your nerves. You wave to Cater and Lilia as you pass by them, Kalim continues to drag you by the wrist till you reach Jamil. Your stomach flips seeing his face again. Jamil..there’s not much you know about his character. He’s quiet, worries about Kalim a lot, has average grades, and he’s on the same team as Floyd and Ace. That’s all you know, but something about him makes you all the more embarrassed about auditioning. Especially in front of him. 

“Jamil will handle the music for today! So let him know which song you are doing or hand him your phone so he can download it.” Kalim quickly explains before heading back to his little ‘judging table’. Leaving you alone with Jamil, you can feel him tense once you look right at him. Quickly opening your phone to the song you wanted to play you then hand it to him. He takes it, but he looks you up and down before turning to the laptop beside him.

“You’re from Octavinelle? Wouldn’t being in a band be bad for your work in Mostro Lounge?” Jamil asked, still working on downloading the song.

“Well, Azul has already taken me off all the shifts at Mostro Lounge. I’m too clumsy and he’s scared I’ll run up his money from having to fix all the stuff I break.” You answered honestly remembering the time you threw that student. He deserved it! Then you remembered all the cups you’ve shattered and the plates. You pale at the thought of going back to working at Mostro Lounge.

“Oh, that’s right. You were the one who threw that student through a window? That was you wasn’t it?” He turns to look at you inquisitively. You threw your hands up to your face to hide your flustered face. “Of course, he knows..” 

“I did do that..but for a good reason though!” You answered quickly, but all he does is raise his eyebrow at you. He turns around to grab your phone.

“I believe that. The Savanaclaw students have been acting up lately. Here’s your phone.” Jamil gathers his things before walking you to your seat. “Good luck.” He whispers to you, face close to yours. You watch as he walks over to his seat and your heart is beating much faster than the moment before you walked into the room. “He’s going to be a problem for sure.”

a/n: I've writing while running back and forth trying to complete my laundry. I'm so tired but it gives me some time to decide what to write next so ig it's okay. Anyways enjoy another chapter.

Taglist: @rivr-styx

#twisted wonderland smau #twst jamil #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper #smau

[wardenparker]

You’re So Vain - Chapter 8

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.  

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+! We finally made it! Word Count: 10.9k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, fake dating, angst, a dash of fluff, and a surprising amount of yearning. Summary: Date #5 is a bust, but Taco Tuesday is the real test of what lays ahead for you and Dieter. And what lies ahead is nothing like either of you expected... Notes: I have nothing to say for myself this week, guys. I just *really* love these two idiots.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

It’s been two days since you’ve heard from Dieter. Surprising, considering the fact that you’ve now slept with him, and you would be lying if you claimed it didn’t hurt a little. Maybe you were nothing more than convenient in the moment and that’s all it was. Just a moment. But you have to begrudgingly admit to yourself, standing on the Santa Monica Pier waiting for him to show up for your fifth scheduled date, that you’re hurt that he hasn’t even texted.

Of course, you hadn’t sent anything either. Too afraid of being rejected in the very sober light of day to brave even a “Hey”. You had left a note, and he had chosen to ignore you. That’s what you get, apparently. You get rejection. He’ll probably show up tonight like nothing is wrong and not even acknowledge that anything ever happened.

If you had begun to let yourself hope that you were more than a contract to him, the message is now clear: you are a means to an end. He’s probably forgotten about taco night, too, and you’ll have to explain to a heartbroken Nora why her newly minted uncle won’t be showing his face around the house again. And it’s your fault for getting your hopes up. Looking out over the water, you check your phone again and sigh. He’s late. Only five minutes but still, he’s late. Figures.

******

“I’m not going.” Dieter has been arguing with Libby for forty-five minutes. Staring darkly up at his manager as he very pointedly sits in his boxers and a bathrobe, not dressed for his date. “I’m never going again. So just fucking forget it. Let her out of that stupid ass contract, because I have no intention of doing anything else.” That was entirely true, because apparently Nora knew about Taco Tuesday and he wasn’t disappointing her, but after waking up alone, he wanted nothing to do with you.

“If you would tell me what the hell happened, I might consider it.” She’s asked five times now and he keeps dodging the question, and it’s making her more and more aggravated. Dieter can be evasive in general, but this is bad even for him. “You’re already late, so what’s the five minutes it’s going to take to tell me why you hate her all over again?”

He stares at her for a few moments, about to continue the stubborn silence but he finally huffs. Looking away in embarrassment and a little sadness, he mumbles, “She took off while I was asleep.” He confesses quietly.

Libby stares right back for a second, jaw almost dropping open before she can stop herself. That was not the response she had been expecting, and judging from the pout on his face it’s actually something that is upsetting him. “No note?” She asks, leaning back against his sink. “She seems like the note type.”

“Fucking nothing.” He sneers, shaking his head. “She’s made it clear that she regrets it. Didn’t even text me. So I’m not going to bother.”

“Maybe she thought you would regret it and didn’t want to hang around just to be asked to leave.” If anything, Libby would be a damn liar if she claimed nothing like that had ever happened to her when she first got to LA. The doubting expression on Dieter’s face is unshakeable, though, and she shrugs. “I don’t know, Dee. Neither of you has ever been particularly excited about the whole thing but it’s doing exactly what we want it to.” She puts on her most excited face, trying to entice him into some kind of positivity. “The contract from Paramount that just came through has a clause for two more pictures and they approved your entire rider.”

“No.” Dieter shakes his head and huffs. “I don’t care, it’s enough.” He tells her. “Once I get through Taco Tuesday and leave for Switzerland, I’m happy to never think about her again.”

“Taco Tuesday?” She raises an eyebrow at him in question. Usually he’s not one to participate in cutesy shit like that.

Dieter rolls his eyes and huffs again, feeling a little self-conscious. “I promised Nora I would watch Toy Story with her, and Tuesday is the only day that would work and it’s apparently Taco Tuesday in their household.” He explains, making sure to emphasize that he was going for Nora. Kids don’t deserve the shitty end of the stick because their aunt sucks.

“Tuesday is tomorrow,” Libby tells him gently, in case he hasn’t looked at a calendar yet today. He made his costume fitting earlier but that was because the studio sent a car for him. “You’re gonna go have dinner with her tomorrow after standing her up tonight?” Her shoulders tense, seeing the obvious flaw in that plan. “You know I can’t let her out of the contract, Dee. It’s too important. But if you post the tiniest bit on your social media from dinner tomorrow night, I’ll call her right now and tell her to go home. Can we call that a deal?” There’s still the sixth date to consider, and she’ll have to figure out what the hell to do about it, but she can cross that bridge on her own and tell him the plan later.

Dieter bites his lip but after a moment of consideration, he blows out a sigh. “Fine.” He narrows his eyes at Libby. “But I’m not doing a sixth date.” He promises. “Sue my ass, I don’t care.”

“I’ll figure something out.” She’s good at that. The problem solving of having movie star clients is something that she’s very good at, in fact. He doesn’t always like her solutions at first, but she definitely gets her desired results four out of five times. That’s why she’s worked for him for so long - she works for him.

“Yeah.” Dieter rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat; happy he’s gotten his way. “Don’t tell her.” He decides, smirking slightly. “Let her sit there.”

“She’s not the Wicked Witch of the West, Dee.” Libby shakes her head. She has no intention of letting you stew, but judging from how hurt he is she might wait a little while before calling. “I’m guessing this was about the party?”

“It’s about the fact that she snuck out of bed and left and didn’t even give me a ‘fuck you Bravo’!” He leaps up out of his seat and turned to the window. The sheets had been changed and he was honestly thinking about getting rid of the entire bed.

“Dee.” Libby almost groans at the realization but smothers it with a sigh. “You like her now. Don’t you? You did a complete 180.”

“No.” He refuses to look her in the face, staring out at the pool as if he can magically transport himself to it. “I don’t and drop it.” He warns, turning around to level a glare at her.

Holding up both hands in a show of innocence, Libby takes a step back out of range of his glare. “Okay, okay.” He absolutely fucking does like you. She’s only ever seen him go from childish to angry like this when his heart is completely on the line, so she definitely has her answer. And that is enough to let her change the subject. “Are you packed yet?”

“Yes.” Dieter shrugs one shoulder and gestures towards his closet. “No. I’ll be ready by the time I leave.” Because of the locale and what it means, he will dress a little better. As if in tribute to his sister. She would have pulled his ear if he tried to walk into a museum in a bathrobe.

“I’ll get you packed.” Like with everything else in his life, Libby knows Dieter’s most and least favourite things, and also the things that are bad habits that she can help break him of with a little gentle prodding. Like packing shirts that fit him properly as well as the soft, shapeless t-shirts that he loves. “I’ll come by tomorrow while you’re doing your at taco night and pack you up. We won’t do it tonight so that you don’t have to think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Dieter shrugs and turns away from the window. “I’m gonna go for a swim.” He announces, eager to get away from the questioning eyes of his manager.

“Okay.” Libby nods, knowing that that is the end of the conversation for tonight. “Try to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dieter glances at the woman studying him and gives another halfhearted shrug. “‘Night.” He tells her. “Go home to your soulmate. Stop worrying about mine.”

“I worry about you,” she clarifies, but turns for the door. “I haven’t stuck with you for twenty years just for the pay, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He huffs, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes. “It’s because you’re secretly in love with me.”

“Our little secret.” Libby offers him a smile, and turns to leave. She’ll come back tomorrow and pack some of his favorite treats into his suitcases for Switzerland. With Dieter the little things make all the difference, and if he’s nursing a broken heart then he deserves all the big and little things in the world.

Dieter peels off his robe and dives into the pool, not even caring that he’s not wearing swimming trunks. The cool water surrounds him and instantly relaxes his volatile emotions. He hopes you are standing at that pier a long time, although he figures you probably didn’t even show up yourself.

******

It’s been two hours, but you haven’t dared to call or even text him. If he didn’t bother contacting you after fucking you, and now he’s just not showing up for one of his manager’s precious arranged dates? He’s done with you. The message couldn’t be clearer: You served your purpose and now he’s done. The worst part isn’t that you’re being rejected by your soulmate. Sure that’s fucking heart breaking to think about, but the worst part is that you’re going to have to explain to Nora that she isn’t going to see him ever again.

******

Dieter huffs to himself as he stands in front of the door he would have been happy to be in front of just a week ago. Or at least not as upset to be here. He knows you will be here, but he’s just going to focus on Nora. The gift in his hand for her. Sighing, he presses the doorbell at seven on the dot.

Your neck nearly snaps when the doorbell rings, and you can hear Nora happily cheering from the living room where she and Steph have been setting up the movie and TV trays around the sofa for movie night. Your time in the kitchen is usually soothing but all you’ve been able to think about is actually joking with Dieter in the car about taco toppings like some kind of normal couple getting to know each other instead of the fucked-up mess you are together. For whatever godforsaken reason, though, he’s here. And on time, to boot. “I’ll get it!” Steph calls, hurrying to the door before you can even put your knife down. She’s heard you crying the last couple of days and she hates it, so beating you to the door is an effort to prevent immediate shouting.

He’s relieved to see a face that he considers friendly. “Hey Steph.” He greets her breathlessly and bites his lip. “I, uh, Nora and I are supposed to watch Toy Story?”

“Yeah,” she nods, being plenty aware of the plan. She had thought it was a great sign until she saw your mood the last few days. “Come on in. It’s…uh, it’s a family thing, so that includes you.”

“I don’t know about family.” He murmurs, feeling self-conscious and apprehensive about seeing you again. “But I appreciate the opportunity to see Nora before I leave.”

“You’re family.” Steph assures him quietly, shutting the door behind him. “Family doesn’t always agree or get along one hundred percent of the time, but they matter to each other. And Uncle Deedee matters.”

“Maybe to Squirt.” Dieter huffs and reaches into the bag to pull out a bottle of tequila he had brought her. “For my hostess. Can’t have tacos without tequila.”

“Thanks.” She really is at a loss for what to say beyond trying to promise him that he is not the enemy. Not to her and Nora. Your stance is a little shaky at the moment. “Come on in. There’s fresh guacamole and queso and more chips than have ever been in one place before.”

Dieter is saved from more awkward conversation by a loud, happy squeal. “Uncle Deedee!” He turns and grins when he sees Nora rushing towards him, outfitted in her Jessie costume. “Hey, Squirt!”

Steph shuffles into the kitchen guiltily to grab the appetizer tray and you nearly wince. “I can’t believe he came.”

“Well, he’s here.” Steph murmurs softly.

“Yeah.” You nod in the vaguest way possible, feeling small and petty for being hurt over it. “I know it’s just for Nora. I know that. But—” But he couldn’t at least text you to tell you that he had gotten what he wanted? “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t go out there.”

Steph sighs and rolls her shoulder back, listening to the sounds of Dieter and Nora chatting animatedly. “What happened?” She’s tired of assuming the worst, but she’s determined to figure out how to advise you.

“We—” You sigh, putting down the knife in your hand and looking down at the kitchen counter instead of up at your friend. “We slept together. And I don’t remember much, to be honest. But I had to leave the next morning to get home and I couldn’t wake him up, so I left him a note. Apparently that wasn’t good enough because he hasn’t spoken to me since and he stood me up yesterday.”

“Oh shit.” Out of everything, Steph hadn’t expected that. Not even with you coming home the next morning. You had looked hung over, so she had just assumed you had crashed. “I— are you—was it—?” She can’t get the words out because she doesn’t believe Dieter is that type of man, but…

“I don’t know.” Shrugging deeply, you scrub both hands down your face and groan. “I know I enjoyed myself. I remember that much. But clearly that doesn’t mean shit.”

“How do you know you enjoyed it?” She asks, concerned.

“I started remembering little bits.” It was a shock, the first time a little memory had come back to you, and you had pushed it out of your head immediately, but a few more memories had followed over the last few days. “Just a few flashes, but graphic ones.” And it hurts so much worse knowing it had been good before it all went wrong again.

She feels a little better at that, knowing you aren’t the type of person to just give in if you don’t want something. “And of course, talking isn’t an option.” She murmurs to herself, amazed at how stubborn the two of you are. A perfect match in her opinion.

“The ball is still in his court.” You have no problem saying that, but he better have a hell of an apology for yesterday. “I left him a note. He chose not to talk to me after that.”

Steph bites her lip, knowing that you wouldn’t appreciate her putting in her obvious questions. You already feel like she’s ‘team Dieter’ so it’s best to not ask where you left the note. “Just— hopefully tonight goes well.” She murmurs finally.

“I’m not going to cause shit.” Of course not. You wouldn’t do that to your niece. “Tonight is for Nora.”

“For Nora.” Steph nods, reaching out and rubbing your shoulder gently. “I’m here if you need to talk.” She offers, knowing that you normally run to talk to her, but this time you’ve been quiet.

“I’ll get over it.” It’s barely a mumble as you go back to slicing radishes to add to the tray of taco toppings. “He obviously got what he wanted from me. No use pretending it was anything more.”

Your best friend sighs and shakes her head, wondering why they hell you haven’t learned your lesson about communication. “If that’s what you want.” She comments as she walks out into the main living area.

******

Dinner would have been pure torture if not for the movie. Nora happily chatters along with the dialogue while the adults eat much more slowly, and you park yourself in the armchair next to the end of the couch he isn’t sitting on to put some distance between you. Not that he’s even glanced in your direction the entire night. Not one single time. And no matter how many times you tell yourself that it is what it is, it still fucking hurts.

Dieter can feel the aching hurt just crawling under his skin. Making him want to scratch endlessly along his body and tear it out. He wants to yell at you, demand to know why he wasn’t good enough. Worse, he wants to kiss you again.

It’s bullshit that you have to sit here and pretend everything is okay, and you practically jump up out of your seat when Nora yawns and stretches as the credits begin to roll. Picking up plates and cups and loading everything onto a tray to bring back to the kitchen, everything is fine until you reach to snag the plate from in front of Dieter without realizing that his hand was touching it. Touching him is not what you needed tonight.

Dieter yanks his hand back like he’s been burned, hating the way that his stomach twists and clenches almost painfully. “I gotta go, Squirt.” He murmurs as he all but leaps up off the couch and pats his pockets for his keys. “You be good for your mom, okay?”

“Uncle Deedee nooooo!” She pouts, yawning again. “Don’t want you to go!” She’s had fun tonight and even though she knows she’s going to have to go to bed she wants him there until the very last second.

“How about I carry you up?” He compromises, heart melting towards the little girl. She has a special place in his heart. A reminder of everything good and sweet that was still around.

“Really?” She just about lights up, arms already open wide to sling around his neck. “Yes, please!”

He pretends to grunt, huffing at her playfully. “Bigger than you look, squirt.” He teases. “Might have to carry me upstairs.”

“Noooooo.” She giggles, grabbing on to him like she used to do to with Shawn when he carried her the same way. It makes you want to scream and cry and ask him what the hell you did wrong this time, but you can’t even open your mouth or move.

It’s a fucking shame that this wonderful little girl was your niece. Especially since he was certain that eventually you would prevent him from seeing her or Steph again. “Okaaaaay.” He grumbles and starts for the stairs. “I’ll carry you this time.”

Steph disappears after them as you pile things up on the tray and bring them back to the kitchen. There’s a lot to clean up and you’re probably going to have a hell of a lot to drink once he’s gone, drowning the remnants of chips and guac in tequila like it will somehow make you less sad.

******

Upstairs, Dieter is fascinated by Nora’s bedtime routine. Nodding as she shows him her toothbrush and humming in approval when she reappears in a Toy Story nightgown. When she’s in her bed, he winks at her and bends down to kiss her forehead. “Night, squirt.”

“Night night.” Nora hugs him tight before reaching for her mother, demanding more hugs from a second source. “Night night, Mommy. And night night to Auntie Gigi.”

His stomach twists at the mention of you and he gives a small smile as he backs out of the doorway. Having every intention of sneaking out without seeing you again.

An intention that backfires when you’re standing in the living room collecting rejected drink glasses when he hits the bottom of the staircase. “Thank you for not punishing her for things she has nothing to do with.” Twenty minutes alone in the kitchen and that’s what you decided to say to him. No yelling, no anger, no self-pity.

Snorting, he can’t even begin to fathom the audacity you have. “She speaks!” He cries softly, scornfully. “She’s innocent.”

“I speak?” And just like that, the self-righteous fury is right on the surface. “You have been freezing me out, not the other way around.”

He probably resembles a fish the way that his mouth works for several moments, opening and closing without any words coming out of them. Indignation fills him and he narrows his eyes. “Considering the way you snuck out and didn’t say a goddamn word, I figured it was exactly what you wanted.”

“I told you exactly where I was going.” You shoot back, glad the cups in your hands are all plastic and all empty. “But I’m sorry a damn note isn’t good enough for Dieter fucking Bravo. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

“What note?” He demands, hands on his hips and his voice creeps up a notch. “You didn’t leave a fucking note!” Sneering, he shakes his head. “I woke up, alone, after a great night to find out my soulmate would prefer a walk of shame rather than stay in the bed with me.”

The way your face falls is complete – understanding dawning all at once. “On your sketch pad. It was the only paper I could find.” You tell him, voice strangled in your throat. “I left you a note that I had to come home to take care of Nora but that we should talk.” At the time you had been afraid of him not being happy to see you there in the morning but now he’s calling it great? “I tried to wake you up…but you wouldn’t budge.”

He wants to call you a liar, to scoff and say that there was no note on his sketch pad, but he hadn't looked at it. Especially after waking up alone and feeling the overwhelming disappointment that had crept over him. He had searched the entire house for you, until Rico told him that he had taken you home, although he had cut the man off before he could even finish the statement. "I—" His voice cracks and he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for you. Trying to shield himself from being vulnerable as his shoulders round. "I didn't see it." He admits, voice low. "I just – I thought you regretted it and I – when I am completely relaxed and....happy, I'm a heavy sleeper."

“When I just didn’t hear anything from you, I thought you regretted it.” And you had cried yourself to sleep at the thought of your soulmate regretting you, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I don’t actually remember much…but I had promised Nora a trip to the zoo that next day, and I…” He looks so wounded, like a spurned puppy, and all of your anger completely melts away. Of course he was freezing you out if he thought you took off. You would have done the same thing. “If you called after you woke up, I was going to ask you to spend the day with us…but then I didn’t hear anything and I—I was afraid to call just to find out that you didn’t want to see me again…”

“I—” He’s horrified that you don’t remember, especially since he remembers everything. “I was looking for you.” He promises. “Wanted to— wanted to take you out to brunch. And maybe even bring you to the appointments I had, if you had wanted to.” He had woken up happy, not ready to let go of that date. “I thought you skulked out because you were upset you had— that we had slept together.”

“No.” Shaking your head and shoving your one free hand in your pocket purely out of nerves, all you can really do for a moment is stand there. “I wasn’t upset. I just wish I could remember more than a few flashes here and there.”

Dieter goes a little green, shuffling on his feet and reaching up to scrub at the back of his neck. “It was— uh, shit…” He hisses. “I didn’t coerce you; I promise.”

“I remember enough to know that,” you promise him quietly. And Rico had also assured you of it that morning. “I’m sorry we got our wires crossed, but I really—” Your drooping shoulders pull up in a shrug. “I’m sorry I was too scared to call. We could have had this conversation days ago.”

“I thought you still hated me.” He confesses, dropping his eyes down to the floor and staring at his feet. “That it was a mistake you had made when you were drunk.”

“I was definitely drunk.” That is definitely something you can say without hesitation. “But I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, biting his lip as he thinks about that night. He had tried to avoid thinking about it after he woke up alone, but he was definitely thinking about it now.

“Um…” Glancing up the stairs, it’s clear that Steph is either reading Nora a second bedtime story or lingering on the top floor to give you privacy, and you make a mental note to thank her for it profusely - probably with cookies and booze. “I remember some specifically placed body shots…and feeling like you were going to rearrange my damn organs while you were inside me…” Saying any of it out loud - even slightly mumbling and quiet - just isn’t your normal kind of behaviour and you feel like your face is going to overheat and set on fire. “And that you wouldn’t let me go down on you because it had been a while.”

“So you don’t remember the car?” He asks quietly, cock twitching when he hears you telling him what you remember. The bottle of rum was still sitting on his bedside table. Even if he hadn’t slept in the bed since that morning.

“Wh—what did we do in the car?” Oh Jesus…you’re never going to be able to look Rico in the face ever again…

“You— I fingered you.” He tells you. “You were on my lap, and we couldn’t wait to get home.”

“That…” Even with one hand covering your face, you groan slightly in embarrassment. “That tracks. For me anyway. I’m—” Oh, the irony. “I’m kind of a horny drunk. In case that wasn’t clear.”

“Oh.” He nods, wondering if it was just because you were drunk. It must be, considering he doubts you would have slept with him sober. “That’s okay.” He tells you.

“No! No, shit, that’s not what I meant.” Having kept yourself from breaching the three feet between you, it seems like now it the time. He doesn’t step away as you step forward, so you’ll take that as a good sign as you gently reach out to touch his arm. “It’s like…if I’m with someone I like…it takes away the fear. All the voices in my head telling me why I shouldn’t, or trying to convince me that the other person doesn’t like me the same…they go away. Not that I’ll just throw caution to the wind and fuck anybody around after two glasses of champagne.”

Relief and honestly, fear, washes over him. Fear that you will find him lacking. That he will be everything you expected. “Okay.” He understands needing something to be relaxed enough. Fuck knows he’s done enough drugs to understand that. “I understand.” He swallows down the way his stomach rolls. “I didn’t— I don’t— it was really good.” He murmurs softly.

“Then I hope I remember more.” It’s been a little bit every day, and before right now, that has been a devastating thing to deal with. “I get why you stood me up, if you just thought I left without a word.”

“I didn’t see the note.” He murmurs, shuffling closer to you, as if drawn to you. “I’m sorry.” He knows now that it seems like he was a dick. “I just – I wish you had texted me. Or that I had woken up.” He blushes slightly.

“We’re sensationally bad at this.” It actually makes you laugh despite yourself, a wry little chuckle as he steps closer. “Maybe…” It’s a wild, crazy, flying leap, but it’s on the tip of your tongue and didn’t you just say how bad you are at communicating? “Maybe…I don’t know what filming is like…but maybe we could talk sometimes?” The part of you that wants to grab on to him right here and right now and start making ludicrous promises is definitely not the part to let free, but talking is good. Talking is responsible and positive and hopefully won’t backfire. The last few days have made it perfectly clear to you that you don’t want to just lose him altogether. “I know you’re leaving in a few days and you’re probably super busy…”

“We can talk.” Dieter interrupts, nodding quickly. “I— if you text me, I’ll answer when I can.” He doesn’t want to leave things in such an awkward place, hoping that at least the two of you can be amicable even if he wonders if it will ever be more than just that night.

“I can do that.” He’s so close that it would take almost no effort to just lean forward and kiss him but you’re sure that would be crossing a line. “By the time you get back, I’ll be back in school, so my schedule will be a little tighter. But that’s okay.”

He nods, now slightly regretting taking the project. He couldn’t have ever anticipated actually not wanting to leave so he could spend time with you, but here he is.

“Are we…” You hate how small your voice sounds, and how you’re still afraid to reach for him despite the small touch to his arm a second ago. This man has literally been inside you - you shouldn’t have to be afraid of touching him. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah.” Dieter nods, giving you a very serious look. “We’re okay. I’m sorry again.” He murmurs. “I—I would have texted you.”

“Thank god for Taco Tuesday, I guess.” Without it, you’d both be too stubborn and proud to have ever spoken up, and you would have gone on assuming that he regretted sleeping with you.

“Thank God for Taco Tuesday.” Dieter grins, shaking his head. He bites his lip and decides that while it will be too much to kiss you, but he does pull you in for a hug.

He’s a completely enveloping presence, with a broad as he is and as well as his arms fit around you. Both of your arms go around his waist, and even with the cups you’re hanging onto with one hand, you still feel like it’s the best hug you’ve had in years. You don’t want to admit that you’ll probably miss him while he’s gone, but right now you swear you’re so relieved at knowing he isn’t mad at you anymore that you might not let him go.

“So, let’s make a deal.” He murmurs, not wanting to quite let go of you. “We work on this communication thing.” He chuckles quietly. “Obviously we aren’t good at it. And my job is communicating with my audience.”

“We suck at it.” You snort, laughing a little against his chest. “Like we’re probably the poster couple for shitty communication.” It’s the first time that word has ever crossed your lips in reference to the two of you and you can feel the way you hold your breath instinctively - worried that you’ve stepped too far somehow. The only person who’s ever called you a couple is Libby or sometimes the media, but that doesn’t mean he actually wants to be with you.

“I don’t think Mate Marks wants to advertise that.” He huffs in amusement, unable to describe how light he feels when you call the two of you a couple. Even though he’s never wanted to think in those terms, since him…it just clicks in his brain. “We might have to just keep these stories an inside joke.”

“The world doesn’t have to know everything.” They definitely don’t know all of how rocky your beginning was, even if Fuck you, Bravo! did turn into an immediate meme. You do feel pretty bad about that one. “What are you thinking? Like phone chat dates? Or are we instituting an honesty time and banning sarcasm all together?” Pulling your head away from the sound of his heartbeat, you end up smirking a little. “Because if you ban sarcasm, I’m going to lose my sense of humour completely.”

“I like just the idea of before we put our foot in our mouths and assume, we just be honest first.” Dieter pulls back and smirks at you.

“So, completely the opposite of what we’ve been doing until now?” You huff at him, playfully indignant in the moment. “Fine, I guess.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I better go.” He murmurs, sad that he has to. “I have an early morning.” With as much as he has to do, drinking and partying would have been limited even if he was still using.

“Okay.” It twists your gut in a way you don’t really know how to handle, but you hug him one more time before forcing yourself to let go and step back. A month is a long time, but maybe reducing your contact to only conversation will be good for this new resolution of better communication.

“Goodnight.” If the past few days hadn’t happened the way they had, he would kiss you, instead he just offers you a smile.

“Goodnight.” There’s an ache in your chest that you refuse to name as he walks through the front door, but at least this time you know he’ll be back - and it won’t be to yell at you.

******

Libby lets herself into Dieter’s house, unsure of what exactly is still going on between you and her client. She had called you as soon as she left, making apologies but not lying about why Dieter wasn’t showing up to the fifth date. Just that he wasn’t. She had heard the hurt and confusion in your voice.

Packing Dieter is simple. She knows his taste and what he needs, which things he prefers and which things he’ll only wear or use if she forces him. Since he’s going to Switzerland, she moves to gather up his favourite art supplies and stops short. A scrawled few sentences in handwriting she doesn’t recognize — signed by you. She knew you were a fucking note person! From how hurt Dieter was yesterday there’s no way he lied about not seeing it. He must genuinely have not picked up his sketchbook since then. The idea dawns slowly, but as she stares at the note that innocently explains having to take care of your niece and wanting to talk about what happened, she pulls her business phone from her pocket and opens the recent calls list to find the airline Dieter is flying to Switzerland. One more ticket needs to be bought, for a later flight to the same destination. In your name this time. The two of you are going to work this out if it kills you.

******

Dieter both loves and hates traveling. He loves visiting new places, physically seeing things that he would draw in his art classes in school. Trying new cuisine and learning local traditions. He hates everything to do with TSA and Customs. Finally on board, he sighs and reaches for his phone, deciding that he will at least send you a text before he turns it off for the flight. “Want Swiss chocolate when I come back?”

“The Lindt factory tour is on my bucket list 💗 that would be amazing of you.” The text comes back almost immediately, practically beaming through the phone.

Dieter grins and sends back a few emojis before the intercom on the plane come on. “👍🍫 🍫 🍫✈” He shuts off his phone and wonders when he can get a drink.

******

You’re still smiling at your phone over your breakfast when it unexpectedly rings. Libby’s name splashes across the screen and you scrunch your nose, wondering what she might have to say. Dieter just got on the plane; she can’t possibly be trying to schedule a date. “Hi Libby,” you decide not to send her to voicemail, knowing she’ll just call back if you do.

“I need you to pack your bags.” Libby announces without preamble. “You have a flight in three hours to Switzerland.”

“Excuse me?” Your jaw nearly hits the table, eyes blowing wide.

“The fifth date didn’t happen.” Libby reminds you, not that you are at fault. “You are going to join Dieter in Switzerland and stay with him while he is shooting the movie.”

“You’re serious?” There’s a mild panic in your voice, not because you don’t want to see him again but because his manager just expects you to pack up and rearrange your life at the drop of a hat. “Exactly how long are you supposedly sending me halfway across the world? I don’t exactly have the funds for that. And that means Steph will have no one to help look after Nora.”

“Actually, that’s already been taken care of.” Libby announces. “Rico will watch Nora; he has experience with managing Dieter so a four-year-old is a piece of cake.” She jokes with a small laugh. “And the ticket is already booked. First class. Everything will be covered for you while you are there.”

“What, you’re just going to hand me a copy of Dee’s black AmEx card and send me off to Europe?” You practically scoff into your phone but eventually sigh. The contract you signed never stated where or when the six dates would occur, so technically she is within her legal rights to say that visiting him there is one of them. “Does he know I’m coming?”

“Nope.” Libby practically sings the one-word answer. “I didn’t get a chance to tell him, but I’m sure he will be thrilled.” He hadn’t come home in a bad mood according to Rico when she checked in this morning; so it was promising.

“Didn’t get a chance to tell him or intentionally didn’t mention it?” Face dropping into one upturned palm, you huff another sigh and admit to yourself that it will be whatever it will be. “How long am I supposed to be there for, and do I get to wear my own clothes? Logistical questions are what I’m going to ask you instead of getting indignant at being surprised.”

“I’m going to have a selection of clothes waiting for you, but you should also bring your favorite things.” Libby pauses and decides that she’s going to give you leverage if you need it. “Dee likes you, just— think of it as a long-deserved vacation with your soulmate. And learning how hard he works.”

“Are you coming by to drop off my tickets?” Considering you haven’t flown out of any airport in nearly ten years, the intricacies of digital check ins and in-app boarding passes escape you. “I’ll have to talk to Steph about all this. Three hours isn’t a lot of prep time.”

“I can come by and make sure you have everything you need.” Libby promises, having already put together a travel kit for Dee’s soulmate. She likes you, despite the way the two of you seem to clash. And now that Dee has done a 180 on his feelings for you, she will be your biggest supporter if it means you make her client happy.

“Okay.” You take a sip of your coffee and lean back at the breakfast table. Steph and Nora are outside in the backyard gardening, so you might as well go talk to them now. “I’ll see you when you get here, then. I’m going to go talk to Steph.”

“Okay!” Having expected far more of an argument, Libby quickly agrees and hangs up the phone, doing a little victory dance in the hallway of her office.

Shoving your cell phone into your pocket and pushing back from the table, you grab your coffee mug with one hand and the remnants of your bagel in the other and head outside. “Nora baby, do you wanna head inside and wash your hands? I need to talk to Mommy for a second.”

It’s never a good sign when you sent Nora away, especially when she’s outside. Steph paints a smile on her face and nods at Nora. “Go on, sweetheart.” She urges her. “Adult conversations aren’t fun.”

“Libby called.” You start, as soon as Nora disappears past you into the kitchen, and you finish chewing the end of the bagel that you shoved into your mouth. “Apparently the fifth date has been rescheduled.”

“Oh?” As far as Steph knew, Dieter was leaving for Switzerland today. “Did his departure get delayed a week?”

“No. He texted me from the plane, he’s already left.” Both of your hands wrap around your coffee mug, and you blow out a nervous sigh. “It seems I’m going, too.”

“Do what?” Her mouth drops open in shock and she stares at you in shock. “I – I thought—” she doesn’t mention how upset you had been yesterday. After Dieter left, you had gone to your room, and she had been hesitant to go in to check on you.

“That was pretty much my reaction, too.” You admit, sinking down next to her in the chair that Nora had just vacated. “We talked before he left last night, and we said we’d talk while he was away and try to be better about communicating instead of assuming. But this…this is a lot. And by calling it the fifth date, it falls under the contract and I kind of have no choice.”

“I— you’re going to Switzerland!” Steph is shocked but one thousand percent happy for you to be able to travel. She chews her lip and nods. “Nora will just go to daycare and you better send me a million pictures!”

“Libby says she’s arranged for someone from Dee’s staff to help out. You know Rico? The guy from his security staff that drives him sometimes? Uh…apparently he has childcare qualifications.” It makes you tighten again inwardly, guilt for leaving mixing with excitement at being able to travel — and to be able to see Dieter. You have to admit that to yourself – you do actually want to see him. “You can say no, and I’ll tell her to just forget it. But I don’t want you to be without help while I’m gone.”

“Rico?” Steph arches a brow and shakes her head at you. “There is no way you are turning down an opportunity to travel.” She insists. “I’m assuming you aren’t having to pay for it?”

“Apparently it’s all-expenses-paid as far as I’m concerned.” You’ve never paid for a single thing where Dieter in concerned, and though that makes sense considering the contract and the fact that he makes literally millions more than you, it still makes you a little uneasy. The idea of taking advantage of him doesn’t sit well. “Libby’s on her way over to drop off the tickets and some other stuff.” Shuffling in your seat, you look over at your best friend and sigh. “The only thing is…he doesn’t know I’m coming. Libby clearly thinks making it a surprise is some kind of genius move.”

“I— he doesn’t know?” Steph frowns and sighs. “Does she know about what happened between you two?” She asks. “You said you two talked last night.”

“I don’t know what he told her, but I’m hoping she’s not gleefully sending me into what she thinks is a lion’s den.” A surprise is one thing, but a bad surprise is entirely another. “I guess we’ll do my birthday when I get back? Except it’ll be a reverse birthday since I’m definitely bringing you guys souvenirs.”

“Maybe she –” Steph bites her lip. “You think this is because he said something to her? To convince her that you needed to be there?”

“I really don’t know,” you admit, more than a trace of sheepishness in your voice. “But do you guys want to come upstairs with me while I pack? We can explain to Nora where I’m going together?”

“That sounds like a plan.” Steph quickly climbs to her feet. “It’s great.” She gushes. “You’ve wanted to travel more and now you get to.” She turns halfway to the door and grins. “You are going to have an amazing time.” She predicts.

******

Even in first class, eleven hours is a hell of a long time to be on an airplane. The nonstop flight included luxuries you didn’t even know airplanes offered, and you managed to finally finish reading the book you had started two weeks ago but could never find time for. Amazing food, drinks always just a polite request away, but still - eleven hours took its toll. Landing in Geneva at 10pm, you found yourself appropriately exhausted as you looked out into the sea of people waiting at the international arrivals gate to retrieve their travelers. Though you secretly hoped he would be there to pick you up you knew that it wouldn’t be the case, and sure enough a uniformed woman with white-blonde hair and a generous smile is holding a sign with your name on it.

Suitcases in the trunk, you pour yourself into the car for what the cheery woman promises will be a short drive. She hands you an envelope once you’re settled and pulls the car out into the streets of Geneva, headed for the Hôtel Métropole. A credit card with your name on it (clearly attached to a business expense account), a room key marked for the Calvin Suite, a map of the city, and a visitor’s pass for the studio you assume Dieter is working at, are all sitting inside waiting for you. Three weeks. Three weeks spending every single day in a country whose languages you don’t speak, spending hopefully just a tiny bit of time with your soulmate each day. This…might actually be fun, despite the layer of scared that’s coloring your outlook. You just wish Dieter knew you were coming.

******

Dieter groans as he steps out of the shower. It had been a grueling day, unfortunately the moment he disembarked and got through customs, he was busy. Meeting the director and taking care of the last-minute issues with his costume and character. A true ‘hit the ground running’ situation and he was exhausted. Thankfully the next two days were devoted to jet lag, allowing other pour souls to filter in from around the world to make this movie. As soon as he throws his robe on, he’s ordering too service and passing out. After he sends you a quick text to check in.

The hotel staff is kind when you are ushered inside, greeting you in French and then English as you pass by. The elevator would be distractingly gorgeous if you weren’t so tired, and you figure you’ll just get upstairs and order some room service and text Dieter before passing out. Steph already got a text to say you landed safely, and that was that. Since Dieter has no idea you’re here, you’ll surprise him fresh in the morning. Not in the crinkled linen shirt and jeans you just traveled half a day in.

Dieter had just put the hotel phone down, room service ordered, when he hears the electronic lock on his door gets accessed. Turning in bewilderment, he watches the door swing open slowly, as if someone is cautiously making their way in, wondering who the fuck has a key card to his room.

The second you’re through the door he’s right there, and you swear you couldn’t feel like more of an idiot if you tried. Libby has completely played you without effort - sending you on a surprise visit and giving you a key to his room so casually that you didn’t even stop to consider that you wouldn’t be given your own space. Of course not. This is all about getting the two of you seen together. Well���at least there’s a sofa for you to sleep on, since you’re not expecting an invitation back into his bed any time soon - despite having to admit to yourself that you would probably accept if it was offered.

“Surprise,” you manage to murmur, obviously as shocked as he is for you to be walking through his hotel room door with a pair of suitcases.

He stares for a moment, wondering if he’s having some kind of dream or if he taken ‘shrooms without knowing it. You aren’t supposed to be here, but you are. “Hey.” When he gets over his shock, when he can think again, he’s rushing forward to help you with your stuff. You look as worn out as he feels.

“Hey.” His suite has a full front sitting room and more beyond that, but you don’t have time to think about what else might be waiting for you because he’s ushering you inside as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. Wet hair, worn t-shirt, pajama pants, robe. He must have been getting ready for bed. “Libby arranged a little surprise for you…I, um…I hope this is okay?” You swallow down the fear that he won’t be okay with you being here. Don’t assume. Let him tell you how he feels about it.

“I— yeah.” Dieter nods, wiping his hands on his pajama pants and looks around the room. “I— it’ll make it easier to text.” He jokes.

“Yeah, definitely.” Looking around you, even a little further into the suite, it’s clear that he must have told Libby everything that happened between you, because through the open doors you catch sight of only one bed. “Nora and Steph asked for pictures,” you murmur, defaulting to talking about the two people you both universally enjoy. “So I might tourist a little while you’re working. I—I don’t want to…you know. Be in the way.”

Dieter realizes you are in his room, with your stuff. “I— are you okay staying with me?” He asks, not knowing what she might have said to you about sleeping arrangements. “Or do you want to see about your own room?”

"To be honest?" Honesty is what you agreed on, after all. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch if sharing a bed makes you uncomfortable, but...three weeks in a foreign country where I don't speak the language and don't know why way around? I… I think it might be nice to share space." As soon as it's out of your mouth, you're rolling your eyes at yourself, knowing that it didn't sound as good out loud as it did in your head. "If it starts to bug you that you don't have any privacy, I'll ask for my own room. But it...it might be nice to share?" It would be a comfort to be able to share space with the literal only other person in the country you know. The fact that it's him? Well...you said you wanted to get to know each other, right?

“We don’t have to have sex.” Dieter immediately assures you. “It’s not— I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.” He had slept incredibly well next to you. “It’s a king-sized bed, you won’t even know I’m there.” He jokes, wondering why Libby sprang you on him and didn’t book you a separate room.

You can't help but chuckle, mostly at yourself, and offer him a shrug. "I've never shared a bed with anybody but you and a very cuddly toddler, so if I end up rolling over too close to you in the middle of the night, just push me away."

“I don’t mind that.” He admits quietly. “I’m kinda a cuddler.”

"I guess we'll see what happens." As casual as you can possibly sound, your body's reaction to being able to be in the same bed as him again is definitely louder - the distinct feeling of arousal making you feel much warmer all of a sudden. "Don't let me interrupt whatever you were doing...I can unpack tomorrow if you were headed to sleep."

“No! I, uh, are you hungry? I ordered room service and I can add on to it for you.” Dieter offers.

Nearly groaning, you barely manage to stop yourself from the obscene sound you would have made and nod. "I'm starving," you admit with a laugh. "I was too nervous on the plane to each much."

“Okay.” Dieter nods and walks over to the book with the room service menu. “Pick out what you want, and I’ll add it to your order.”

The room service menu, like the hotel, is incredibly fancy and some of the items are unfamiliar. With as tired as you are, you're not up for a lot of experimenting, and the discovery of a few different kinds of upscale sliders being offered is delightful. After pointing out the item to Dieter and thanking him again, you're ready to just leave your suitcases where they are for now except you have to dig out some pajamas before exhaustion completely takes you over.

"This place is huge." You observe rather uselessly. "Which way is the bathroom? I'm just...just going to put on my pjs. We can eat and hit the hay? I'm guessing you have a lot to do tomorrow."

Dieter nods and points to the doorway through the separate bedroom. “If you want, go ahead and shower and I’ll make sure that I call you when it’s done.”

"Thank you." Snagging your new, Libby-provided backpack with all your toiletries and a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt stashed in the bottom, you instinctively reach to squeeze his hand as you walk by him in the direction he pointed. "I won't take long."

“Okay.” Dieter grins and nods. “I’ll order it right away.” He tells you. “You shower and get the travel grime off you.” He is happily reaching for the phone to order more food as he talks.

******

About twenty minutes later you're clean as a whistle and feeling like you finally don't smell like an airplane anymore. The toiletries provided by the hotel are just as luxurious as everything else, and your feet dig into the plush rug as you pad back out into the main room in your pjs to see Dieter accepting a tray of room service from a young man in the obvious uniform of the hotel's staff. "Looks like I have perfect timing."

“You do.” He snickers and turns around with the trays. “Now we can pig out and sleep for twenty hours.”

"You don't have to work?" You grab the drinks he ordered off the tray to make balancing a little easier for him and follow him through a doorway you hadn't even noticed before - one that opens into an enormous formal dining room with seating for ten. "Holy shit, this is just...part of the room?" Who hosts dinners in a hotel room?

“Yeah.” He laughs and shakes his heads. “Apparently dinner parties are a thing?” He asks. “So if you want to have one, go for it.”

"Who would I even invite?" The two of you pull out chairs and you pop the tops on the San Pellegrino cans that were included on the tray after sitting down beside him. "So, I guess you don't have to bring me home any chocolate," you joke, thinking back to that text he had sent you early this morning.

“I guess not.” He’s not upset about that. “You can do that Lindt tour if you want.” He hums and grins as he unrolls his silverware. “And I have every intention of going to the museum the first chance I get.” He knows you will understand which one, he’s talking about.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" In no way do you expect him to want to spend every free second with you, but there are a few things that you might actually have fun doing together. The Kunstmuseum Basel being one of them.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Dieter hums as he forks up a bite of his food. “Anything you want to do. I’ll give you my schedule and If you want an exploration partner, I’ll go with you.” He hovers the fork next to his mouth. “And you can come to set anytime you want.”

"Really?" The extremely upscale sliders on your plate look amazing, but you find yourself looking at Dieter instead of just digging into your food. "You wouldn't mind me being there?" Somehow you had expected him to be more resistant to the idea of having you infringing on his time in his favourite place, but you're...pretty thrilled that he's so receptive, actually. In a way you never expected to be.

Since he found out that you wanted to spend the day with him after sleeping together, he’s been craving more time with you. This seems like a windfall and he will have to thank Libby, in his own way. “No, unless you don’t want to be there. You don’t have to. I know it’s not exactly interesting to some.”

"No, I want to." Like most people, the most insight you've ever gotten into what goes on, on a movie set are behind the scenes featurettes for movies you've seen. And for the longest time you told yourself that you didn't care. That you didn't want to know. But the fact is...now that you know him a little? You're curious to see what his work is like. "I mean what the hell do I know about being on a movie set, right? It could be fascinating. I'll save days where I want to do stuff you're not interested in for the days when you have the most demanding work, and we can do the stuff we both want to do together."

“That sounds good.” He agrees and takes a bite. “Although after we eat, I’m going to pass out and sleep until I can’t sleep anymore.”

"Definitely." Reminding yourself that you were starving just a second ago, you pick up one of your sliders and dig in, moaning unrestrainedly at the gorgeously flavourful bite - only to laugh at yourself a second later for the shamelessly enthusiastic noise.

Dieter chuckles and shifts in his seat, ignoring the pangs of lust that race through him. “At least you enjoy the food.” He jokes with a wink.

"Shut up," you mumble around another bite, laughing at yourself despite being a little embarrassed. "I'm not dainty, you knew that already."

“Oh I remember.” Dieter huffs and immediately bites his lips to stop himself from saying things that could completely offend you. Instead, he gives a shrug. “I don’t mind that at all.”

"Okay." Two more bites and the first slider is gone, giving you a second to sit back and wipe your hands on a napkin and take a sip of your drink. "I want to know what happened." Since you talked to him about it you've only dredged up a few more flashes of memories from that night - mainly the car ride back to his place from the party - and it was enough to have you excusing yourself to your room to remember in private. "You said you remember everything."

“What do you want to know?” He arches a brow as he takes another bite of his own meal. “How I suffocated myself in your pussy despite you being shy about the trim job?”

"It's not like I ever have anybody to trim it for." The protest is mumbled at best, and you shrug like it doesn't matter even though your cheeks are on fire. "I do remember you like having your hair pulled..."

“Yeah.” Dieter has zero shame in admitting that. He liked it, he liked it a lot. “You liked my reaction to it too.” He reminds you with a playful wink. “And you liked riding.”

“I do like riding…” That, at least, you already knew about yourself, and you grin a little as you take another bite of your food. “I’m almost afraid to ask if anything embarrassing happened, since everything I remember was good.”

“Nothing embarrassing that I think is embarrassing.” He shrugs with a grin. “Just a lot of orgasms and fun.” He reaches for his water and takes a sip, trying to act like he’s not remembering every single second of being inside of you that night.

“Well…good.” What else can you really say to that, except to be relieved that you didn’t fart in his face or something? Talk about mortifying. He’s the first man in a decade to actually see you naked, but that’s probably far too emotional of a fact to be brought up when you’re both jet-lagged and scarfing down your late-night snacks. Instead, you huff a small laugh and shrug, offering him a sheepish smile. “With three weeks and one bed it seems like Libby is banking on a repeat.”

“That might be my fault.” Dieter admits with a wince. He remembers the conversation with Libby. “I didn’t handle you slipping away very well. Told her to let you out of the contract because I wanted nothing to do with it and I wasn’t seeing you again.”

“I should have texted you when I didn’t hear from you.” You can admit when you’re at fault, even if it stings your pride. “This—this whole trip might actually be good for us. There’s no way to avoid each other if something upsets us. We’re kind of…forced to deal with our shit. And we said we wanted to work on our communication anyway.” The second slider is gone with a happy hum and you have to admit that this - just sitting and talking - us kind of nice.

“This might be the first meal we’ve had together without being upset.” Dieter muses. “Quick, throw the salt at me.”

“Maybe I want to set a dangerous precedent,” you grin at him, a little wider than you expected. “Not constantly fighting with my soulmate sounds really nice.”

“Unheard of.” Dieter jokes, throwing your grin back at you, admiring the way that your eyes crinkle slightly when you’re happy. “What else would we do?”

“Not a damn clue.” He looks so much more comfortable - so much more himself - when he’s relaxed and it almost surprises you that the first word that flits across your mind is handsome. He looks so much more handsome when he’s relaxed. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out.”

“I’m sure we will.” Dieter nods and tries to smother a yawn. Now that you are here, he doesn’t want to sleep, but he’s about to pass out. Needing to close his gritty eyes and unplug from the world for some hours.

“You were up early, you should tuck in.” The only reason you know that is because he texted you from the airport, but it still feels nice to have a better sort of handle on what’s going on with him. Not that you have any sort of claim as a partner, but just as a friend. Because really - it would be excruciating to find out that your soulmate wants nothing to do with you, so the least you can be is his friend. “I’m going to have my last few bites and I’ll leave the tray outside the door before I join you?” Yeah…getting into the same bed as him is going to be…well, your heart rate definitely jumped saying it.

“Yeah.” As much as he doesn’t want to turn in, he has to. “I’ll brush my teeth and then let you have the bathroom again.” He offers, standing up and sending you a tired look. “If I’m snoring, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Offering him one more smile as he trudges from the room, you dig your phone out of your pocket and shoot a quick text off to Steph as you hungrily demolish the last few bites of your delicious room service.

To Stephy: Got to the hotel to find out Libby has us sharing a suite. There is only one bed. I am living a fanfic trope. Update you in the morning.

Dieter brushes his teeth and shuffles into the bedroom, wondering what side you want to sleep on. It can be something that you discuss tomorrow. Instead, he just chooses his normal side and climbs in.

It’s only about ten minutes later that you’re crawling into bed, too, feeling self-conscious enough to stay on the edge of the other side of the bed despite freshly brushed teeth and a freshly showered self. Your awkwardness has nothing to do with cleanliness, but everything to do with the fact that you wish, however secretly, that he might actually roll over and get closer to you in the middle of the night. Whatever happens over the next three weeks, it’s sure to be an adventure.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat​ @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri    

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #The Bubble #Soulmate AU #enemies to lovers #fake dating #Trash Can Man

[secretobsessionstuff]

Just a little request for a sick Shawn where he comes home feeling nauseous but Mateo made one of his favourite foods for dinner. His boyfriend put so much time and effort into cooking that he tries to eat it but he can't keep it down for very long and he has to run to the bathroom to throw up.

Oh man, I had a blast writing this! I hope you all like it!

-----------------

I hate the tiny humans today, Shawn texted this to Mateo after lunch time—the lunch that he missed because he’d been going over a failed test with a student. The kid came up to his desk with tears in her eyes, wondering what she could possibly do to make it up. She was the one who used the word ‘fail’ but really Shawn had given her a B minus. His humans weren’t so tiny, not like five years old, but they were still prepubescent balls of cringey energy and attitude. Some of them were even balls of anxiety over mediocre grades. 

What have the tiny demons done now? Mateo texted back. He was at home, enjoying a day off between shifts. There wasn’t a bone in his body that envied his boyfriend on that fine Friday afternoon.

Everything! He replied. They were so snotty this morning. And my lesson flopped.

The kids had been snotty, both attitude wise and literally he decided, thinking of the crying girl who interrupted his lunch before it could start.

Honestly, Shawn wasn’t too upset about missing his lunch. He hadn’t been hungry for the salad that he packed anyway. His stomach couldn’t seem to find even the lightest of meals appetizing. He blamed this on the hectic morning that had been full of yelling, waiting for silence, more waiting, and more yelling. His throat was raw by time the lunch bell rang. 

He probably should have eaten something though because his body felt weak and uncooperative. A headache gripped his temples at ten in the morning and hadn’t let go yet. The pulsing pain still radiated around his skull. He dreaded the next few hours in which he would stand on his feet and yell some more. 

He texted Mateo in a string of small messages. Mateo hated when he did that, preferring to write his messages in large paragraphs. In three blue bubbles of text, Shawn wrote: 

I’m so tired. 

My head hurts

Come kidnap me please

In a typical Mateo fashion, he replied with a paragraph: Drink lots of water to help with the headache. Also, Tylenol! And you better not have skipped lunch again. Then in another blue bubble he wrote: Look for the white van out front. I’ll be there soon with tempting candy and a promise that I know your mom. Maybe I’ll have a creepy mustache. 

Shawn smiled at his phone. 

He wanted so damn bad to be at home with Mateo just then. They’d curl up on the couch and watch a movie.

Funnily enough this fantasy did not include an unhealthy dose of junk food like it normally would. There was no comforting ice cream or brownies in this picture because Shawn could not bring himself to care about food. His stomach was the real ball of anxiety. 

Yep, just anxiety, so he went back to work when the bell rang at the end of lunch. 

At home, Mateo was thinking only of food. He thought about the way Shawn constantly skipped lunch to talk to students or go over the upcoming lesson. No doubt his boyfriend would come home ravenous and in need of some comfort. With time and ingredients on his hands, Mateo decided to make one of Shawn’s comfort foods: Shepherd’s pie. The savory meat and fluffy mashed potatoes would fill Shawn right up. He texted one last thing to his exhausted boyfriend: 

:)

Shawn’s sore throat begged for water ten minutes into the second half of the day. His feet screamed at him to sit down. The muscles in his back protested every movement. 

And his stomach! Oh, his stomach…didn’t do anything ominous. No gurgling. No bubbling. It just kind of held a dull, non-threatening ache, waiting until the time was right to make him nauseous. 

That time was not yet. 

The day ended on a low note. Shawn had given up trying to teach his rambunctious students and let them work on their upcoming assignments. This meant that they goofed off on their laptops while he pretended to grade tests at his desk. He tried not to fall asleep, but his heavy head kept wanting to rest on the pile of un-graded papers. 

Eventually the bell that marked the end of the day pierced his ear drums. It was not a good sound, but it was a welcomed one. 

It was during his drive home that his belly decided to send a twinge of nausea to his brain. That nausea grew, and grew, until he practically moaned in pain with every jerk of the car. 

You can’t even imagine the intense wave of nausea that crashed into him as he entered his home. The hearty scent of ground beef, rich gravy, and strong onions overwhelmed his nose. 

He knew that scent well. Shepherd’s pie. 

It was such a comfort meal that the smell was like a warm blanket. That smell should have made his mouth water with hunger and anticipation, but instead it made his mouth water with nausea. 

There was a deep casserole dish resting atop the oven. Judging by the steam rising from it, it was fresh from the oven. Melty cheese blanketed the mashed potatoes. The dishware was glass, letting him see the thick layer of meat and peas that was trapped beneath the fluffy cloud of starch. 

Shawn smiled sadly, knowing that Mateo had made this for him. It was somewhat of an annoying dish to make because it required making the meat mixture, mashing the potatoes, putting it all together in a casserole, and baking the entire thing until the top layer was golden. With many steps, many ingredients, and many dirty dishes, it wasn’t a meal that either Mateo nor Shawn wanted to make often. It was usually made for a special occasion. Or apparently now it was made for when Shawn had a bad day. 

“Look what I made you,” Mateo said excitedly as he came into the kitchen. He greeted Shawn with a peck on the lips. “I didn’t realize that we were out of ground beef, so I went out and bought some.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Shawn said. It was hard to keep his smile from melting off his face. The kitchen was already hot from the cooking, and his layers of clothes suddenly felt suffocating. 

Mateo grabbed the bags out of Shawn’s hand as they walked to the bedroom. “I wanted to. I know you had a rough day, so I thought I would cook something for you. Smells great, doesn’t it?” 

“Mhm,” Shawn hummed. He practically tore the buttons off his shirt. He couldn’t free himself fast enough.

“Anyway,” Mateo said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “get into comfy clothes, leave this horrible day behind you, and join me at the table. Hurry before it cools down too much.” 

Shawn let out a heavy exhale once he was alone in the room. Exchanging his nice pants for sweats was the best feeling he got all day. The tightness around his middle disappeared, but the ache inside his middle did not. 

He could cry at the sweet gesture that Mateo did for him. It was perfect—exactly what he would have needed after a bad day. He would have sighed happily after taking the first bite of his meal. The feeling of warmth and safety would have enveloped him as the buttery gravy coated his tongue. 

Now he would feel only nausea as he struggled to get even the first bite down. 

But of course, he joined his boyfriend at the table. Mateo gave him a very large portion. Even more steam escaped into the air. The hazy steam and dim yellow lights in the kitchen made Shawn feel woozy. Peas and carrots tumbled out of the chunk he’d been given. He felt like tumbling as well. 

“I really hope it’s alright,” Mateo said. “It won’t be exactly like you had growing up, but I tried.” 

Damn you adorable boy, Shawn thought. There was no way he could get away with eating only a little bit. 

Mateo watched him take the first bite. 

Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with the first bite. It tasted great, homey and soft, and it’s not like Shawn’s stomach rebelled immediately. Mateo seemed to relax and enjoy their dinner together once Shawn told him that the dish was great.

Shawn managed to eat a fair amount before his stomach began to whine. He kept on trudging through the meal. If he were feeling better, Shawn would have meticulously ensured that every forkful contained meat, veggies, and potatoes, because that was the only right way to eat Shepherd’s pie. 

The current Shawn—the one who felt like a spinning top or an overfull balloon—did not eat the right way. He simply scooped up whatever was left on the plate and prayed that it stayed in his belly. 

Finally. Finally! The plate was clean. There were only two stubborn peas left behind that Shawn was too lazy to chase after. And anyway, those two peas might have been the thing that upset the fragile peace in his belly. For now, everything was staying put. 

It did not feel good by any means. Shawn exhaled deeply and rubbed his middle. The pressure in his belly was too much to ignore, but he hoped he was doing a good enough job at hiding his discomfort. 

“That was delicious,” Mateo said, slouching back in his chair. “There’s also ice cream for dessert if you want.” 

Shawn’s eyes went wide as he burped into his fist. “Ugh no I’m good,” he said, his voice deep from the belch that filled his throat. He swallowed thickly. “I’m very full but thank you.” 

“Sure, maybe later.” Mateo grabbed their plates and took them to the sink. He started the long process of washing the dishes. 

Shawn stayed at the table, afraid to stand up. He watched Mateo move around the kitchen. The boy pushed his sleeves past his elbows so they wouldn't get wet doing the dishes. 

It was a nice scene—his boyfriend doing the most domestic of tasks—but Shawn couldn’t appreciate any of it. He wanted to thank Mateo for making the elaborate meal. He wanted to kiss him on the back of his neck while the two of them cleaned up. 

But his upset belly had other ideas. It gurgled loudly, struggling to digest the heavy meal. Shawn burped again. It was wet and made his belly do a flip. He couldn’t stop a groan from escaping as well. He excused himself as a blush rose to his cheeks. 

Mateo chuckled and craned to look at Shawn out of the corner of his eye. “You weren’t kidding about being full.” 

Another burp bubbled up from Shawn’s belly, making him plant a firm hand on the table. His nausea was back with a vendetta against him. He was beginning to suspect that there was no chance of keeping the food down. 

Just then, Shawn’s stomach let out such a loud gurgle that it made Mateo turn fully around. He abandoned the dishes and looked straight at Shawn. “Seriously, is your stomach okay? That didn’t sound good.” 

“Um…” Shawn rose shakily from the table with one hand over his mouth. A hiccup made his shoulders hitch. A painful spasm seized his belly, causing him to hunch forward. 

“Shawn?” Mateo’s voice came from another land. It was muffled by the blood pulsing in Shawn’s ears. 

Shawn could feel another belch—or maybe something more—rise in his throat. He didn’t want to stick around to find out if he was going to lose his dinner all over the table, so he dashed to the bathroom down the hall. 

The boy landed on his knees in front of the toilet just as a flood of hot vomit rushed out of his mouth. It didn’t take much effort on his part to bring up the food he’d just eaten. It gurgled up his throat easily, driven by the sharp squeezed in his abdomen.  He coughed and belched, filling the toilet with barely-digested potatoes and meat.

Mateo was by his side in an instant, rubbing his back, even as his face expressed shock and confusion. He didn’t say anything about this sudden turn of events. He simply let Shawn know he was there by his gentle touch. 

With traces of vomit burning his nose, Shawn spared a glance at Mateo. His boyfriend looked—as expected—concerned. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Shawn to run into the bathroom, moments after finishing his favourite meal. 

“I’m sorry,” Shawn choked out in between retches. “I tried to keep it down.” That was all he could manage before his belly lurched again, pushing his body forward. The sick flowed from his mouth in thick streams. 

Mateo shook his head, still utterly confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“I was really nauseous, but then you made such a nice dinner for me…” he paused long enough to burp and spit a glob of saliva into the bowl. “I thought my stomach could handle it. I wanted it to.”

“Oh, Shawn, no,” Mateo said regretfully. “Honey, why would you do that to yourself?” His gentle rubbing along Shawn’s back slowed as he seemed to think about the issue more. “No, don’t answer that. I know exactly why you did it.” 

“I’m sorry, Teo.” Shawn wanted to say more but he gagged again. He groaned and hovered his mouth over the toilet once more, letting strings of saliva drip into the water. He didn’t have to wait long before his stomach clenched, sending up a smaller wave of puke. The volume of each bout was decreasing, but he was not finished. “Ugh my belly,” he whined. His comfort meal did not feel so comforting coming back up

Mateo clicked his tongue. “What am I gonna do with you?” 

When Shawn’s stomach began to settle, he leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh. He licked his lips and grimaced. “Can you get me a drink of water?” 

“Sure,” Mateo said, rising to his feet. He filled a small cup at the bathroom sink. “Here you go.” 

Shawn grabbed it carefully, aware that his hands were still shaking from gripping the toilet bowl so tight. “Gotta get the taste out of my mouth.” 

“Of course.” 

Shawn almost had the cup up to his lips when he quickly added, “But please don’t think the meal was bad. It wasn’t! It was good. You did a great job, babe.” 

Mateo laughed at this. “Thanks.” 

“We’ll have it as leftovers.” 

“Sure, eventually,” Mateo said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “But I don’t think you’ll be eating it anytime soon.” 

“That’s okay.” Shawn sighed as the cool water soothed his throat. “We’ll freeze it, and it’ll be there when I’m ready.” 

#emeto #emetophilia #sickfic #emeto fiction #emetophile #emeto fic #emeto kink #emetophiliac #vomit kink #belly kink #illness #my ocs #Shawn #Mateo #stomach ache #stomach ache fic #tummy ache #tummy kink #stomach flu #stomach bug #stomach flu fic #nausea #nausea fic #vomiting #vomiting fic #puking #puke #puke without plot

[stiltonbasket]

yet another preview with very little context...

set in @sweetlittlevampire’s Cat Fic verse!

"You found a cat?" Lan Wangji repeats. "What kind of cat?"

"A white one?" shrugs Nie Mingjue. "It jumped through my window with a kitten in its mouth, and it won’t leave. I've been taking care of them both since yesterday."

From the corner of his eye, Nie Mingjue spots the kitten crawling up onto the table, and then—to his utter horror—into the steaming hotpot, where it vanishes under the hot red soup with a soft, bubbling splash. Nie Mingjue drops the receiver, frantic, and throws himself forward in a desperate attempt to stop the tiny cat from drowning in his dinner.

"Hotpot is not for kittens," he screeches, while Wangji wheezes like a dying radiator on the other end of the line. "You could have drowned, and I've already fed you three times today!"

The kitten falls to the floor, writhing as if Nie Mingjue had tried to shoot him instead of rescuing him from a soupy end, and rolls around pathetically until his father (?) comes padding over with a resigned look on his face.

"First time?" Nie Mingjue asks the cat, while it takes the kitten by the scruff of its neck and lugs it away to the cat bed in the living room. "Don't worry too much, Ming Yue. A-Sang's done worse, and it's harder when they're more than six inches tall."

Ming Yue twitches his fluffy tail, apparently in agreement, and stares at Nie Mingjue for a moment before dousing the kitten in his water bowl. The kitten wails at the top of its lungs, trying to squirm out of Ming Yue's grip; but Ming Yue refuses to let go, and washes his son (?) clean with his paws before bundling him into his own silky fur to dry. 

“What happened?” his would-be brother-in-law demands, after Nie Mingjue goes back to the kitchen and redials Lan Wangji’s phone number. “Is Ji—is the kitten all right? And what about the cat?”

“The kitten is...wet,” Nie Mingjue says lamely, watching as a minute paw emerges from Ming Yue’s coat before being unceremoniously stuffed back inside. “It fell into my dinner. I was having a hot pot, so...”

“He fell into your hot pot?” Wangji cries, distraught. Nie Mingjue sympathizes, because Miantiao-bao has been driving him and Ming Yue half-wild for the past twenty-five hours. “Where is he now?”

“In Ming Yue’s fur. He’s breathing all right, so he should be fine. I think.”

Lan Wangji sounds more dismayed than ever. “You think?”

“Well, I can go check,” Nie Mingjue suggests, wondering if Lan Wangji might have a weakness for all small creatures, and not only the rabbits he raised with Xichen when they were children. He puts Wangji on hold and hurries back into the living room, where he finds Ming Yue brooding in the cat bed like a hen sitting on eggs, with Miantiao’s impossibly small gray tail sticking out from underneath him.

The tail seems to be moving, though. Miantiao must be alive and well, and Nie Mingjue tells Wangji so before disconnecting the call. 

“How did you get saddled with a kitten, anyway?” Nie Mingjue asks. “You two don’t look alike.”

In answer, Ming Yue turns over and curls up around Miantiao, making a soft nest for the kitten out of his own furry body; and Nie Mingjue tries again, oddly certain that the cat might be able to understand him. “What happened to its mother?”

Ming Yue rolls his eyes, or does something very close to it, and lays a tender paw on Miantiao’s head.

“Are you his mother?” After all, Mingjue was guessing when he decided that Ming Yue must be a male cat, and he might very well be wrong; but Ming Yue and A-Tiao are both fast asleep, so Nie Mingjue switches the lights off and checks his messages before getting ready for bed.

Lan Xichen has not contacted him since the day before yesterday.

A-Huan, please answer, he writes again, wishing that Ming Yue and little Miantiao were in the bedroom with him. Be well, my heart. I miss you.

#nielan #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #lan xichen #nie mingjue #lan jingyi #fic preview #my fic #!!!!!!! #also hotpot is poisonous for cats do NOT attempt at home #we will assume that jingyi is a magical cat who can eat human food bc he's a cat shapeshifter #i feel the need to point out that my greatest talent is perhaps giving yall a list of wips #and then showing up 12 hours later with something entirely different #and i have done it yet again #rip u_u

[banannabethchase]

Set the World Alight: Chapter 13 - also on Ao3

~

It's Matt's birthday. She's excited. Nick is…feeling weird.

~

Thursday, March 13th

Matt wakes up on her eighteenth birthday, in her own bedroom, about half an hour before her alarm to her phone going ballistic.

“What the heck?” she mumbles, rolling over. She hits her arm on the sloped wall, still not totally used to the new room. “Ow!”

When she grabs her phone, she can’t help but grin. She has fifteen messages, at least five from Mox alone from what she can see, wishing her happy birthday.

hey love u happy birthday am I the first text

also i kno ur old enough but dont go vape its so bad for u

that last message was mostly a joke but still no vaping

She holds the phone to her chest as she practically spins out of bed. Matt gets ready, pleased for a repaired bathroom and her own space, and practically skips through the garage back into the main house. “Good my birthday morning, everybody!”

Nick stares at her, eyes still squinted. Their mom is yawning over a bowl of cereal.

“You’re chipper,” Nick mumbles. “Happy birthday.”

Matt beams at him. “It’s my first birthday as a girl.”

It’s like a switch with how quickly Nick’s and their mom’s faces change.

“Oh, baby, you’re right!” her mom says. “Wow. What an amazing – you text me what kind of cake you want, if you want decorations, okay? We’re going to do a nice dinner tonight.” She frowns. “Is it too last minute? Try not to invite too many, love, we don’t have a big house.”

Matt grins, feeling the excitement bubble. “Okay! Um. Can we have lasagna? And that big salad thing you make?”

Their mom nods and begins making notes on her phone. “What a good day to be off, wow. Alright. I need to get dressed. We have a whole thing to do!” In a whirl of pajamas, cereal, and excitement, she runs upstairs.

“I can text Kenny and Adam,” Nick says, waving his phone. “I mean. Assuming you want to invite them.”

“Oh, definitely,” Matt says, nodding a little too hard. “And Mox, but I can text him.” She thinks for a second – she wants to call the whole cheer team over, but then she’d have to invite the basketball team too, because Jamie would know. “Okay, just Mox, Kenny, and Adam. Don’t want to get too crazy.”

Nick laughs. “We should tell Kenny to bring Kota, just to see how much he’d freak out.”

Matt cackles. “Oh, he’d lose it. He’d shove his head in the lasagna to get out of that conversation.”

Nick texts Adam and Kenny, while Matt takes over for Mox.

Mom’s doing a birthday thing for me today. Want to come over for dinner?

Mox must have been holding his phone, because his response comes within seconds.

yes definitely ask her if she needs anything from kroger

Matt stares at the message. “Mom?” she yells up the stairs. “Mox wants to know if you need anything from Kroger.”

Their mom comes downstairs, dressed in a tee shirt and jeans Matt is pretty sure are both hers, but she likes the idea of sharing clothes with her mom so much she doesn’t care. “I mean, I do,” she says, twisting her hair up with a claw clip, “but, you know. I’m not going to ask my daughter’s boyfriend to pick up lasagna noodles for me. That feels a little weird. Tell him thank you for asking, though.”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

I think she wants to go and get her own Kroger trip. She says thank you for asking.

ok figured I cold ask. gotta get in good with the future in laws 😉

Matt’s heart flutters and she clutches her phone to her chest. All of a sudden she’s hit with a whirlwind of possibility, of what her life might look like ten years from now. She and Mox, living together in a little home. Maybe a dog and a cat, a kitchen with a big countertop. For activities. She giggles.

“Matt!”

She snaps out of her daydream.

“Earth to my dumb sister, hello! We need to leave now if we want a decent parking space.”

“Right!” Matt says. She gathers her backpack and coffee cup. “Right. School.” She swipes the keys from their bowl on the kitchen counter. “To school we go.”

~

Nick

“I always forget how annoying she is on her birthday,” Nick mumbles into his arms at lunch. “She just – she keeps talking and she never stops. Birthday this, and Matt that, and now we’re doing the dinner.”

“Dinner?” Cole says. Nick lifts his head to see him almost pouting. “I didn’t get invited.”

“Yeah, well, it was last minute,” Nick says with a sigh. “Kenny, Mox, and Adam.”

“Oh, well, I can obviously see why Mox and Adam are there, but why Kenny?” Kyle asks, stealing a noodle from Cole’s plate. Cole proceeds to elbow him in the gut. “Ow! What?! It was just a noodle?”

Nick stares as Cole stares at Kyle, who stares back at him, and then Adam groans.

“You three are exhausting,” Adam mutters. “Let me eat my noodles in peace, why don’t you.”

Kyle grins. “Oh yeah,” he says. “Eat those noodles.”

“Is that a sex joke?” Nick asks. “Because, if it is, it’s a really bad sex joke, and I think it makes me decide I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

“Doubt it,” Kyle says, popping another one of Cole’s noodles into his mouth.

Nick rolls his eyes. “I’m so glad Matt didn’t invite either of you.”

~

Matt

She knows she went to all her classes. She’s sure of it. But she remembers nothing of the day. She gets spoken to no less than four times by three different teachers for being on her phone, but she passes a pop quiz and a math assignment, so she decides it’s worth it.

Practice is less than ideal, because Coach Rayne decided on a conditioning day, but even running a mile and a half didn’t ruin her mood. She cartwheels and bounces through the route, and only kicks Willow once. Luckily, being Willow, she just pokes at Matt’s ribs and promises to kill her later.

She’s hot and sweaty as she gets back to the gym, but Mox still beams at her when she comes into view. She’s pretty sure her entire heart explodes.  

“Hey,” Mox says, sliding in next to her as they walk to the parking lot. “I gotta swing home to shower before your dinner, but I’ll see you then.” He doesn’t even hesitate as he leans in to kiss her forehead. “Mom needs the car to pick something up, so I might be a little late, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He darts off toward his truck. “Happy birthday!”

Matt skips her way to the car, adding a cartwheel or two.

“Um, hello!”

She turns to see Nick hustling from the gym. “Oh, hi, Nick.”

“You forgot me,” he huffs, stomping up toward the car. “You forgot your own brother.”

“I didn’t forget you!” Matt says. “I – I was going to swing around to pick you up.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Sure you were. Sure.”

He’s in a horrible mood the whole drive home, gripping the door and hissing every time Matt takes a turn faster than a mile per hour.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “You’re all weird.”

“I’m fine,” Nick snaps. “I just need a shower.”

Matt resists the urge to ask how the heck a shower could fix a garbage attitude, but she rolls her eyes and walks in the door. Nick goes into the main house without another word, and Matt plays music as loud as she wants as she showers and gets dressed.

She decides not to spend too much time on her hair, because it’s ten minutes from when people are supposed to show up, and she rushes her makeup. She gets mascara in her eye as a reward, and has to give up.

Matt isn’t stomping as she makes her way into the kitchen, but she is frowning when she slips on a sock. Nick walks in. “Oh, perfect,” she snipes. “Nick, would you please pick up your disgusting socks?!”

Nick turns to her, with that stupid confused chicken look. “I just walked downstairs.”

“You have socks everywhere,” Matt says, planting her hands on her hips. “You could do something adult, like picking things up when you use them.”

“What – you leave your shoes everywhere, too!”

They bicker back and forth until they hear a knock on the door. Matt stomps over to the door and yanks it open to see Adam standing there, looking confused.

“Um. Happy birthday? I’m sorry?”

“For what?” Matt asks, stepping to the side.

“You opened the door all angry,” Adam says. He slides in past Matt.

Matt rolls her eyes. “Oh, that’s just because the house is a mess and nobody but me seems to notice.”

Adam blinks. “I, uh. I can leave. Come back later.”

“No!” Nick says. Matt has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. “I mean, don’t go. Matt, I’ll clean it up, okay?”

Matt nods. If Nick was going to be a lovesick, pining dork, at least it would benefit her. “Okay.”

She and Adam sit at the dining room table, and Nick follows soon after.

“All cleaned,” he says.

Matt beams at him. “Thank you.”

Kenny’s shows up next, joining them at the table.

“Mox not here yet?” Kenny asks, taking his jacket off.

Matt shakes her head. “No, but I’m not worried or anything. He said his mom might need the car so he’d be here as soon as he can.” She keeps her hand on her pocket, trying not to think the worst. She doesn’t have time to worry, though, as she hears someone come through the door.

“Sorry!” Mox says. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be late.” He shoves a bouquet of flowers in Matt’s face. “Happy birthday.”

Matt smells the flowers, partially because she has no option. “They’re great, Mox. Thanks.”

Adam, Kenny, and Nick make gagging noises as Matt and Mox kiss.

Dinner and dessert go off without a hitch. Adam’s on the other side of Mox, and the two of them are getting on like a house on fire.

“They seem pretty cool with each other now,” Kenny says.

Matt nods. “Everything after the…incident the other day, they’ve calmed all that down.”

Kenny nods, shoving a forkful of salad in his mouth. “Cool. That’ll make things easier for your brother, yeah?”

“What about me?” Nick asks, leaning past Adam and staring at Kenny.

“Nothing,” Kenny says, and he shoves another forkful of lettuce into his mouth.

“Oh, keeping secrets?” Adam asks. Matt knows that smile. “Hmm. What could you possibly be keeping from us?”

Kenny’s eyes widen as he chews. Matt’s not kind enough to change the topic, and she leans on her hand. “Yeah, Kenny,” she teases. “Are you keeping any secrets from us?”

“You guys are super annoying,” Mox says with a grin. “Matt, you’re not telling our secrets, are you?”

“Yeah, Matt,” Kenny says, in a mockery of her voice, “are you keeping any secrets from us?”

Matt doesn’t have any reason to blush, but she feels her face burn hot pink. “Oh, shut it.”

Adam laughs so hard he chokes on his lasagna.

~

Nick

Nick watches as Matt blows out the candles on her cake, and she looks more serene than Nick’s ever seen her. He watches, almost enviously, as Mox kisses the top of her head. The way she beams up at him…Nick misses feeling that way about someone who felt it back.

“I gotta pee,” he says, standing up. “Cut me a slice, okay?” He ignores the way his voice is unsteady, the tiny shake in his hand.

“Yeah, okay!” Matt says, eyes still locked on Mox’s.

He scrambles to the bathroom and shuts the door. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling, is the problem. He’s frustrated and confused and sad. He’s jealous and angry about it. He’s a coward when it comes to Adam, and he’s angry about that, too.

He’s too scared and too worried and it’s not fair.

He jumps half a foot at the knocking on the door. “Uh, just a second!”

“It’s just me,” says Adam gently. “Wanted to check on you.”

“You wanted to check on me peeing?” Nick jokes, voice unsteady to his own ears. “I promise, I know how to work a toilet.”

“Come on, Nick. I know you better than that.”

Nick groans and pulls the door open. “I’m fine.”

Adam’s smile is knowing, and a little sad. “You’re not. Is this about Jude?”

“What? No.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you’re hiding in a bathroom during your sister’s birthday party, right as she blew out the candles with her boyfriend next to her, just for fun?”

Nick can’t meet Adam’s eyes. “You don’t need to rub it in.”

“I’m not rubbing it in,” Adam says, leaning against the door frame. “Jude bailed on you on your birthday last summer and didn’t tell you why until you called him a few days later.”

“I know.”

“So, obviously, you’re gonna feel some type of weird seeing Matt’s boyfriend be all sweet.”

Nick looks up at him. “I told you he didn’t even pick up my call, right?” He’s choked up. “Called me three days later, dumped me, and didn’t even say happy birthday.”

Adam’s smile is kind in a way that sort of hurts. “You mentioned it.” He holds open his arms. “Want a hug?”

Nick nods and falls into Adam’s chest. This time last year, hell, even over the summer, he wouldn’t have felt butterflies. He wouldn’t have wanted to hold on forever, wouldn’t have wanted to tilt his head up to catch Adam’s lips with his.

He doesn’t know when it started, but he sure as hell knows it’s not gone right now.

“Okay,” Nick says, stepping back before he can do anything stupid. “I – thank you, Adam. I feel better.”

Adam brushes his hair over his shoulder, and Nick’s entire body heats up. “Anything,” Adam promises.

~

Matt

“You got me a dress?!” Matt squeals, holding it up. “Oh my god, Nick, who did you bribe to help you have style?!”

“Mom,” Nick grumbles. The room laughs. “Okay, look, I don’t do the style thing. I defer to the experts.”

She thinks the best part of it is when the five of them are on the couch, watching old home videos while she tries to cover Mox’s eyes whenever she comes onscreen.vShe curls up in Mox’s lap as they watch a video of Adam and Nick doing a dance routine in their blowup pool in fourth grade, and Matt’s never felt happier.

~

Friday, March 14th

Matt

“What’s got you so excited?” Matt asks Adam as they pass in the hallway.

“It’s pi day!” Adam says. “You know. Like pi? The number?”

“I take statistics,” Matt says. “I don’t do all that fancy calculus stuff.” She adjusts her dress. Now that she’s out to the whole school, she’s started trying out dresses. Her birthday gift from Nick, purple and swingy, fits right, but it’s very different. It’s not a bad feeling. Not at all. But it’s pretty weird to have so much of her legs exposed.

“It’s pi day, just have fun with it,” Adam says. “Cute dress, by the way. The purple looks good on you.”

Matt immediately forgets all her doubts about the dress. “Really?”

Adam nods, reaching out to adjust a sleeve. It’s so gentle and sweet that Matt almost beams at him. But she controls it, because Adam is practically Nick’s boyfriend. “Of course, Matty,” Adam says.

Matt reaches out and squeezes his hand. “Well, happy pi day, you nerd.”

“Ah, with the insults.”

“Not an insult!” Matt argues. “It’s. It’s a good thing! Nerd is cute. People go for nerds.”

Adam pushes his glasses up his nose. “Not everybody.”

“Look, if you like – someone, you have to tell them,” Matt insists. “He – they might be too stupid and obtuse to realize you like them back, so you’ll have to make the first move. Because that other person is dumb.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Whatever could you possibly be alluding to, dear Matty?” His expression is a little weird, a little understanding. A little too understanding, but Matt doesn’t have the time to dig into that between classes.

“You know exactly what I’m saying,” Matt says, poking Adam in the chest. “Make a move. He won’t.”

“Noted,” Adam says, nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Cheer competition?”

Matt blinks. “You’re coming?”

“Course I am!” Adam says, looking almost offended at the thought he wouldn’t be there. “Haven’t missed one Spring Show, have I?”

“Usually they’re at our high school,” Matt says, adjusting the strap of her backpack. “This one is pretty far away.”

Adam shrugs. “And? I get to drive with someone who, according to you, may or may not like me.” He breaks into a grin, so wide it’s almost like he couldn’t resist it.

“Ah,” Matt says. “Right. My cheer competition is an excuse for you to flirt with my brother.”

“Why your brother?” Adam asks, feigning surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, shut up,” Matt grumbles. But she gives him a quick hug before making her way down the hallway, a little more swingy in her purple dress than before.

~

Nick

“You said WHAT?”

“Calm down,” Matt says, checking her hair in the mirror. Nick might break it on top of her head. “I just suggested to him that somebody might have a crush on him. I didn’t say the person was you.”

“Sounds like you basically did!” he says. He thunks his head against the car window. “You need to worry about yourself, you nosy little brat.”

“You need to make a move on Adam before he panics and thinks you don’t actually like him.” Matt looks smug beyond words as she pulls out of the parking space and into the line of cars making their way out of the parking lot.

“He’s not gonna do that,” Nick insists, rolling his eyes.

“He might,” Matt says. She glances over at him, looking surprisingly understanding. “You really want to risk it?”

Nick curls in on himself. “No.”

“You need to say something,” Matt says. “At the very least, practicing saying it to yourself. Or me.”

“That makes it sound like you think you’re a part of me.”

Matt deflates. “I thought I was.”

“I mean – yes?” Nick has no idea how this has devolved so quickly. “You’re my sister. We grew up in the same room for, like, 17 years. Of course you’re a part of me. It’s just.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

They’re quiet the whole drive home.

#HangNick #MoxMatt #Hello look it's a birthday chapter that has ANGST #wtf i like wrestling now??? #moxmatt high school AU #in which sara writes

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 311

Optimism/Kerblam!

“Optimism”

Plot Description: Jack convinces Dean to let him help investigate a librarian whose suitors keep dying. Sam bonds with Charlie on a hunt.

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: yeah

FIRST OF ALL. That’s Jim Moriarty’s theme, and second, bold to use stayin alive for a dude who’s definitely about to die

Yeah, I guess not all stake outs are quick and exciting

Not to tell Sam how you’re supposed to use a fidget spinner but…I don’t think that’s correct

Oh both Dean and Jack have Michael trauma they’re gonna start to work out today, I see

Jack sounds so much like Dean (in spirit, not actual voice)

Man I love “replacement for how awkward Castiel used to be around people”!Jack. He’s even got his own trench coat now

Oh. Not a trench coat, tan blazer…but still.

Oh au Charlie…she had a girlfriend who died in the beginning of the angel war

You have no idea how much I want this librarian to be a monster of some sort

Did…yeah, Dean and Jack (but probably mostly Dean) planned this out. Dean coming in as a tough FBI agent and Jack following in once the librarian is a little annoyed and a little scared to save her

Oh. Calling Dean “old man” was NOT in the script lol

She’s so smitten with Jack

The thing is Myles is either the monster…….or he’s about to die. Yeah…it was the latter

So, if it’s not the overly protective coworker OR the librarian, who’s that invested in her life??

Oh Jack was the perfect person for this job. He doesn’t even know what “putting the moves on” someone means.

No. It’s been like 12 seasons since you last tried to out a demon by saying “christo,” you don’t get to start up again NOW

Hey costuming department? Wtf is this?

He really jumped from “I know next to nothing about romance, and that’s fine” to “Dean, you need to tell me everything about sex, now” REAL quick

He did not just call the librarian’s undead ex boyfriend Archie 💀

IT WAS DAY WHEN THEY GOT TO HER APARTMENT WHY IS IT NIGHT ALL OF A SUDDEN? They weren’t at her apartment that long. Just because it’s night for Sam and Charlie??

They’re…they’re not gonna kill Charlie twice are they? It’s one thing when it’s the boys, but she died so brutally last time. Oh good, she was just briefly knocked out

Oh. My. God. This is the best plot to a monster of the week episode. She’s still dating her necromanced boyfriend…and attracts different suitors because the boyfriend needs to feed on human flesh to keep his body mostly intact. You know, I’m not even mad at the pretty monsterfucking librarian, except for going after Jack.

She’s really putting the romance in necromancer

Awww, he’s pretty much convinced Charlie to stay ❤️

Oh poor Jack. He’s got himself a stalker now

This cough is not normal, and I’m so glad SOMEONE is finally finding that out

“Kerblam!”

Plot Description: the Doctor and her friends go undercover at the galaxy’s largest retailer, Kerblam

Man, this show really will not give up on trying to make fezes cool

Is Kerblam! Amazon for the galaxy? Great…ok, well, at least they’re 90% automated (allegedly)

This is possibly the weirdest capitalism in space episode I’ve seen. This girl’s outlook and backstory…actually everyone here is so run down and yet they’ve normalized it all

Ending an intimidating speech with “laters!” Is probably my favorite decision they’ve made this season

Why does this company/planet require 10% of the workforce to be human? Why is total automation bad?

Yeah, you don’t need to sonic everything. Sometimes you just need to tear off the head of a robot

Oh, these conveyor belts give the mail delivery system of Omashu a run for its money

Fantastic, the system running the company sent the fez with “help me” at the beginning of the episode

…the very human instinct to pop bubble wrap has been weaponized

Why is the message of this “automation of repetitive manual labor jobs bad”?

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

[friendfromdsmp]

“Marinette Lesson of the Episode” Review - S1 E2: The Bubbler

Essay-Worthy Review (TL;DR at the bottom)

So obviously the overarching lesson of the episode is that ‘you should always listen to adults even when their rules sound boring or unfair because ultimately they keep you safe’, and I could write a whole separate essay on that, but ultimately what we’re here for is Marinette’s lesson, which is partially used to explain that after a superpower is used the heroes have five minutes before they transform back and partially used to say ‘don’t put off your responsibilities. There’s not much to write about here, in all honesty, but I’ll see what I can do

First off, we see Ladybug use her Lucky Charm to stop Chloé and Adrien from slow dancing, which results in her having to leave the party to transform back and recharge. Tikki scolds Marinette for using her superpower out of ‘jealousy’. While I’m in full agreement that Marinette did let her personal feelings have a say in this one, I’d also like to point out just how uncomfortable Adrien looked; he was cringing and physically recoiling from Chloé trying to get away from her without being rude. Aligning with Marinette’s personal desires and not being directly related to the akuma are not Marinette using her powers for personal gain, which we know Tikki is adamantly against

Marinette counters this argument by saying it was an emergency, which isn’t exactly the best choice of words but certainly isn’t necessarily incorrect; she still protected Adrien from a clearly non-consentual kiss and I’m sure that was ringing alarm bells in his head to say the least. Tikki then takes the chance to inform the audience remind Marinette that she only has five minutes between using her power and transforming back. The dialogue is a little ham-fisted, but I can understand why; it needs to be clear for the young kids watching why they can’t just keep throwing power after power at the villains and why they’re suddenly worried about the time

And now to the second Marinette lesson of the episode, Alya encourages Marinette to come into the Agreste Manor so that she can sign her present to Adrien. Tikki reminds her that they need to deal with the Bubbler first, but Tikki is still eating at this point and there’s no reason why this shouldn’t take more than a second so what’s the problem? In fact, even when they’re inside and Marinette is just finishing writing up the note, Tikki then says that she’s ready to go, implying that Tikki finished her cookie at the same time Marinette finished with the note. Marinette then sent Alya outside so that she could transform inside, only to see Ivan had been bubbled,to which she exclaims “No! You were right, Tikki, I never should’ve waited this long!”

How long were you waiting? The three seconds it took for you to acknowledge Tikki and then send Alya out of the room? If Tikki herself only just finished eating, you couldn’t have transformed earlier even if you hadn’t gone to sort out a note

——— Rankings ———

Intended Lesson

Teach the viewers how the Miraculous function and what limitations they have, don’t use superpowers for selfish reasons, prioritise your responsibilities and don’t put off important things

Conveyed Lesson

Superpowers can only be used once and after that you’re on a timer before you transform back, prioritise responsibilities over personal desires

Appropriateness: ⭐️⭐️

Marinette is the type of person who generally does prioritise her responsibilities over her personal desires. Adrien can cause this to fluctuate a bit, but considering this is only the second episode, with the first and only other episode highlighting that Marinette often prioritises her responsibilities over her personal desires to a point of fault, this lesson is poorly-timed at best. In general, over the course of the show, this message can stand to be reminded gently to Marinette when it comes to Adrien in S1-S3, which is why it gets a bit of a higher ranking, but in general Marinette’s good at this and this lesson sort of counteracts the characterisation of the last episode

Execution: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The dialogue was slightly ham-fisted as I said but I’ll excuse that since it was meant for explaining plot mechanics to kids. Ladybug using her Lucky Charm to save an uncomfortable Adrien from Chloé and Tikki taking this to mean Marinette is using her powers for selfish purposes are both in-character and don’t feel forced. A safe ‘meh’ rating is the best I can give

Blame Distribution: ⭐️⭐️

Marinette was in trouble with Tikki for using her powers out of jealousy. Technically she isn’t wrong, though Marinette also had valid reasons outside of jealousy to act. They did allow Marinette to defend herself and her reasoning as well though, which I’m pleased with. But Marinette blaming herself for ‘waiting this long’ to transform was silly considering that she couldn’t have transformed any earlier regardless. Still, they brush over this quickly and mostly reduce it to a one-liner from Marinette herself, so it’s an easy one to overlook

Overall Ranking: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Meh. To be honest it didn’t really feel like there was a Marinette-centric lesson this episode. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about. There were enough overarching lessons as it was. I can’t really give this one anything other than three stars of ‘not bad, not good, just kinda happened’

#Marinette Lesson of the Episode #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #writing #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #ml ladybug #ladybug #mlb #miraculous #the bubbler #episode review #review

[oreomonsterhunter]

Andjajdbajjdjskdn right when I wanna nap 😭 that’s when they call of course

#legit had the alarm set #and then the texts start #like bruh #you had all day #I just need a power nap my dude #I love this whole quarantine thing #by week two I just know it’ll feel like a jail cell 😂 #and now his little message bubble has been going for five minutes #I love this -_- #i give him five more mins and then I’m taking that nap whether he likes it or not #nat’s korea chronicles #nat’s noodles

[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!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo 

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

[formula1andbeyond]

Picking up the pieces - G.R.

Pairing: George Russell x Williams!Reader

Summary: After the loss of your grandpa, formula 1 legend Frank Williams, you call the only person you can think of. George. But nearly two months after your break up, will this affect anything?

Wordcount: 1.8k

Warning: Post break up, mentions of death, sad!George, swearing

Notes: Sorry for not being active for a while. School. Anyway, this has been laying in my drafts for a while, but I figured I could just release it now. So enjoy my first George Russell fanfic!

George clutches his phone with both hands. His whole body is frozen, the small black bubble of your message still lighting up his phone. He can barely breathe, his focus shifting in and out. This isn’t possible. He blinks. No, your message is still there. Three small words.

Y/n: Grandpa is dead.

He reads it over and over again. Ignoring the fact that the last time you texted him was more than a month ago. His thumbs move without thinking. Sending the only thing he can. The only thing he wants to say.

George: I’ll be right over.

George is out of his chair, and pulling on shoes and jacket in just a few seconds. He’s never been more happy that your apartment is only a few minutes walk from his own. He runs the entire way. Less than five minutes after sending you the text, he knocks on your door. Anxiety suddenly takes hold of him. The two of you haven’t spoken in over a month. Perhaps you don't want him to come.

But he’s already knocked, and it’s too late to take it back. Behind the door he hears some soft shuffling, and the lock turning. He inhales, just as the door opens, and you come into view.

You look tired. Your eyes are red, and your face slightly puffy from crying. George takes half a second to note that you’re wearing his hoodie, before he talks.

“Hi,” Is all he manages to say. It’s like watching something crumble in slow motion, as your eyes well up with tears.

“Hi.” you sniffle. George doesn’t waste a second. With one step, he’s inside the apartment, wrapping his long arms around you and pulling you to him. He can feel you shake as the sobs echo through your body. A single tear falls from his own eyes, as he kisses the top of your head and mutters soft words.

After a few minutes, you quiet down, and push slightly away from George. You wipe your nose on your sleeve.

“Sorry.”

George just shakes his head. You don't have to say sorry. Your grandpa just died. Frank Williams might have been one of George’s biggest idols, but he was your family.

George manages to lead you to the coach, finally taking off his shoes and jacket. He knows how particular you are about removing your shoes before entering the apartment. In his socks, George shuffles around, making two cups of tea, and pulling out a pack of your favourite cookies. He’s been here so many times he knows where everything is.

The two of you sit in silence as you sip the tea. It’s hot, but clearly what you need. George can see your eyes drying, and only soft sniffles erupt from you every now and then. He takes a breath, and speaks.

“When did it happen?” you jump, as if you’ve forgotten he’s even there. George doesn’t take it personal.

“Um, I texted you as soon as mom called.” George nods. You bite your lip and look down, then continue. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

George sighs. Deeply. He runs a hand over his face, as if he’s annoyed. Then he looks at you.

“Of course I would come, y/n. God, you know I always come when you call.” You nod, not meeting his eyes. George can see your throat move as you swallow hard, clutching your teacup. Whether it’s for warmth or comfort, he can’t tell.

“Grandpa was very upset when I told him about the- Uh, break up. He said I was stupid.” You say, finally meeting George’s eyes. Yours are soft and red and scared. His are secure and steady, but filled with something you don't recognize.

“I agree,” is all George says. You cuckle dryly, and roll your eyes a little.

“Seriously, George, we ca-”

“I’m going to another team! I’m not going to war!”

“George…” you sigh. He gets up from his chair, and sits down next to you on the couch, grasping both your hands.

“Please, y/n. I love you!” your eyes well up with tears once again.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “But I can’t do this. Not today. Please, not today.”

George swallows thickly, but nods. It feels like something is stuck in his throat, like he can’t speak. Instead, he drops both your hands, and stands up quickly. You feel cold immediately.

“More tea,” George croakes out, his voice hoarse, and then he disappeared into the kitchen. You sit for a second, before following him. Your slipper clad feet are quiet against the floor. You dont think George hears you. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, his back to you. The kettle is boiling beside him. You see his shoulder shake. You made him cry.

“George..” you whisper. He takes a deep breath and straightens.

“I shouldn’t have come over.” he says hurriedly, before turning around and nearly bolting past you. You call his name again, following him into the hall. Tears are slipping down your face.

“I’m sorry!” you choke out. George straightens and looks at you.

“You keep saying that, y/n! And yet you broke up with me. Why?”

“I- George, can you honestly say nothing will change between us when you join Mercedes? I am just saving both of us a lot of pain by ending this now!”

“Of course things will change! But god, y/n! At least I’m willing to try.” he checks his watch. And mumbles. “I have to leave. My plane departs early tomorrow. I'm just going to assume you won't be coming to the race in Saudi Arabia.”

You shake your head, confirming his statement. George ties his scarf around his neck, and opens the door. Just before he closes it behind him, his eyes meet yours.

“Sorry for your loss.” he says, and then the door closes. As the lock clicks into place, you break. Sliding down against the wall, sobs shake your body, nearly choking you. From the kitchen you can hear the kettle wailing, the water boiling. You just can't seem to care. This feeling of utter despair and emptiness is new to you, but it feels like it’ll never leave. You just made everything worse.

————

You watch the Saudi Arabian gp from the safety of your couch, tucked under a thick blanket, wearing George’s hoodie and eating ice cream. December be damned, you needed this.

When George crashes out, you want to throw up. In that moment, you realise the unbelievable mistake you’ve made. He might be hurt, and you’re not there! You’re not there for him! On instinct, you pick up your phone, then think the better of it. He probably doesn’t want to hear from you right now. Tears slip down your face. George could have gotten seriously hurt today. And you’ve just thrown him away like nothing. You sniffle. No matter how much you regret everything you’ve done, George deserves better than you.

A few hours later, as you're half sleeping, half watching a movie, dried tears on your cheeks, a message pings into your phone. The moment you realise it’s George, you’re fully awake and sitting up.

George: I’m stopping by tomorrow evening.

No more, no less. Shakily, you reply with a little «okay», and close your eyes. Clearly George wants to talk. And you can do that. You have to do it!

————

You’re a nervous wreck. George could be here any minute. During the day, all you’ve managed to do is clean, and then clean again, and then a little tidying. It feels ridiculous. This is George!

George is supposed to be easy. Your best friend. The guy who knows all your secrets, who you’ve spent all your spare time the last three years with. You hate feeling nervous about him.

A quarter to seven, there’s a knock on the door. It’s pouring down with rain outside, as it can only do in England in December. You pull open the door quickly, not giving yourself time to overthink the situation. Outside, a dripping wet George is standing, brown hair falling into his eyes like seaweed. You inhale sharply.

“George-” He shakes his head, and mumbles for you to be quiet. All you can do is step back, and show him into the apartment. You're about to speak up again as you close the door, but George gets to it before you.

“y/n,” he says. You nod, and watch him with wide eyes. His eyes meet yours. Blue eyes piercing you. There is an intensity there that you’ve never seen in him before. He steps closer. On instinct, you take a step back, but hit the wall. George swallows.

“I had a lot of things I wanted to say,» he whispers, as he peers down at you. «I was so fucking angry! But now I don’t remember a single thing, because I just want to kiss you, so so bad,”

Without thinking, you nod. George moves slowly, caressing your face with his hand, before cupping your face. He whispers: “No going back now.”

The kiss is hard and desperate, like he’d a dying man grasping for breath. George is shifting his anger, showing you his feeling through the kiss. It’s intense. The most intense one you’ve ever shared.

After you come up for air, the kiss changes. It’s suddenly soft, and warm and exactly like you remember. You try to pour all your emotions into it. Proving how sorry you are for breaking up, how much you miss him, how much that crash scared you. George pulls slightly away, still cupping your face with both of his hands.

“That crash-” you being. George shushes you.

“It was nothing, love. I’m fine,” he whispers. A tear slips from your eyes, and you sniffle.

“But it could have been something! And all I could think about was how I had thrown away our entire relationship over something stupid. I hate myself for it.” George is shaking his head slowly, drying your tears with his thumbs.

“Shhh, love. You haven't thrown anything away. I’m still here. I’ll always be here.” He kisses you again then. You can taste the salt from your own tears, but they drown away in the incredible feeling of love George is pouring over you. You can’t help but smile.

“I missed you!” You say as you pull away. George wraps his long arms around your waist, pulling you close. You hug him back, and feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I missed you too, love. So, so much!”

—---------------

Later that week, you attend your grandfather's funeral, George at your side. He holds your hand through the whole thing, never letting go. He hugs your mum and step dad, and greets your little brother. It’s like nothing has ever happened.

You miss your grandfather, but it’s like you can feel him send you his trademark smile, telling you he’s proud. You fixed what you had broken, and you continued with your life. Just like your grandfather always did.

You accompany George to Abu Dhabi that weekend, grinning and laughing when people tell you they’re not surprised the two of you are together again.

“There wasn’t a chance in hell you two wouldn’t get back together,” Nicholas says with a grin as he greets you in the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for convincing me to text her,” George says with a grin. You laugh. Of course Nico had something to do with it. The Canadian grin.

“What are teammates for? Let’s enjoy this one last weekend, man.”

You watch the two men greet their team. Your team. Your family. Everyone is smiling, laughing at something George said. It feels like home. And yes, next year will be different. But you’ll manage. You always do. You’ve tried living without George, and you know now, you never want to experience that again. Ever.

#f1 #f1blr #formula 1 #formula one #george russell #george russell imagine #george russell x you #george russell x reader #george russell fanfic #williams racing #williams formula 1 #f1 driver x reader #f1 fanfic

[junisfics]

1:44 AM* — Eren Jaeger

Pairing: Fuckboy! Eren x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: You and Eren's relationship status has always been up in the air... but you'll always be the one he texts in the middle of the night looking to get his dick wet

Content: Unestablished Relationship, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions

Content Warnings: Smut/ Nsfw 18 + (Breeding Kink)

minors can read, but please don't interact (like, comment, reblog)

you hear your phone buzz a few times beside you, vibrating and shifting around on the wood of the nightstand as you turn yourself over to grab it.

‘come over’ ‘y/n, please’

two messages from eren jaeger. 1:44 in the morning. and although his messages were vague, you knew exactly what he wanted. it was the same thing he always wanted.

you sigh, unplugging your phone and rolling over to your back. if you were to scroll up, all the messages ever sent between you two would mirror the ones that were sent only moments ago. and even though you hated how he was using you to his own satisfaction, you could never tell him no. 

‘now?’ you reply, but you already know the answer.

‘yes’ ‘need you so bad’ 

his response sends butterflies erupting in your stomach and makes your face grow hot. you know it was a manipulation tactic, saying ‘you’ instead of ‘it. he had handfuls of other girls that would be more than willing to fulfill his late night needs. but it still makes your heart swell, it makes you feel special.

you slip out from under your sheets, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and tugging off your sweatpants and panties to replace them with pretty baby blue ones and a pair of light grey cotton shorts. you do the same with your tee-shirt, trading it for navy, straight-bottomed sweatshirt that was your dad’s in college.

you take a moment to brush your teeth before slipping on some shoes, grabbing your keys, and getting in your car to drive halfway across town to eren’s complex.

over time, eren has used his living-alone situation very much to his advantage. he’s also used his good looks to his advantage. so whenever he wants, he finds a girl, brings her home, and fucks her senseless until she comes crawling back for more.

but as much as they beg, eren almost never ever gives them seconds. and up until his sophomore year in college, there were only five other girls that he’d gotten with more than once. and until he met you, there was no one else who was consistently getting with him.

you had met him at a party, fucked him in his car, then expected it to be a one night stand type thing. but not even four days later, an unknown number had texted you asking to meet up again. and it was eren.

and ever since that party over a year ago, the hookups were consistently inconsistent. sometimes eren would want you twice a day, everyday, for a week straight. and sometimes he would go a month without messaging you.

and it made you so happy but so hurt at the same time; to have to go without him, someone you've fallen so badly in love with, for so long hurt terribly, but to always have him coming back for you made you swell with pride.

the moment you rap your knuckles against his door, it's swung open. and behind the door stands a shirtless and visibly flustered eren. his face was blushed red and his chest was heaving with every heavy inhale he took.

the moment he can get ahold of you, he does. eren grabs your arms and yanks you inside, only to close the door then press you up against it with his lips on yours.

you can't help but giggle against his lips, "well, hello to you too"

but eren responds by leaning down to grab your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing your back up against the door and kissing you harder.

as surprising as it was, this wasn't new. eren has his moments where he would just want a quick fuck and that's all, he'd skip the small talk and just bend you over.

you can already feel his cock hard against the inside of your thigh, pressing through his sweatpants and grinding against you. you wonder how long he was like this before he texted you...

you let your hands come up to hold his face in your hands as you kiss him back, matching his desperation. your tongues are already sliding against each other, licking into your open mouths and swallowing down and escaping moans.

he was so desperate, so so desperate, you could almost feel his body trembling with arousal and desire. his grip was borderline painful, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs and his teeth were knocking against your own. it was so rushed, so primal.

he pulls you off the door, still holding you against him and his face still in your hands as he blindly finds his way to his bedroom and drops you onto the bed, your back hits the mattress

eren crawls over you again, taking your neck in his right hand gently as he kisses you once more.

he grinds his hips against yours, sliding his clothed cock over your cunt, dragging the weight of it over your clit until you're whimpering at the sensation.

his left hand slides lower, down your torso and to your hip to grab ahold of your waistband.

"off, off now." he mutters, pushing at the fabric until you aid him in sliding it down your thighs.

once your shorts are off, he pushes his own pants just below his hips and frees his cock. he had went commando, no boxers, no briefs, no nothing under those sweatpants.

and once again you're wondering, 'how long has he been like this' and 'what was he doing before this'... but you know the answer.

his fingers on one hand nimbly grab the inner crease of your panties, pulling them aside while the other hand braces by your head as he slides the head of his cock through your accumulated arousal.

he only lets it slide over your clit a few times to watch you twitch beneath him before he brings it back down to your entrance and pushes inside you with one steady thrust.

"fuck me," he spits, head dropping forward to watch the way your hips tilt into his thrust. his hand beside your head hastily grabs the hem of your sweatshirt to push the waist of it up past your tits before coming back down next to you.

"oh my god," you whine, your right hand coming up to grab the wrist of his now planted hand, your other holding your sweater up your chest for him.

he could fuck you stupid every goddamn day of your life and you'd still never get used to the feeling of his cock filling you.

his arm shakes under the pressure of holding him up, and really only then does it hit you how badly he needed you.

"how — how long were you like this?" you breathe, circling your hips against his, your clit grinding against his pelvis.

"so fucking long. you have no idea what you do to me. 'was thinking about fucking you all day — god. m'fucking hand wasn't enough." he grunts, pulling himself out of you real slow, savoring the your cunt grips him, "the others weren't enough... needed you."

you can only let out a shaky moan at his response. it made your entire body run a degree hotter than it already was. never before has he so openly voiced his thoughts about you outside of sex, never before told you that he's thought about you while jerking himself off.

he slides his cock back in again, a low groan bubbling up from his throat as he does so. he'll never get over the way your body shakes as he reaches his hilt.

"yeah?" you encourage him to keep talking, wanting to hear him admit it again — needing to hear how much he wanted you, was desperate for you.

"fuck, yeah. you're the only one who takes my cock so well, they — god — they don't squeeze me the way you do." he groans, jaw dropping open as he finally picks up his pace

every thrust he takes he slightly increases his speed until his hips are slapping against yours and sending your pretty tits back and forth.

eren doesn't know where to look. he's stuck between watching your face melt in pleasure, watching your pretty little cunt stretch around his cock, or watching your pretty tits bounce in front of him. god you were so perfect for him.

"'s why i keep coming back to you," he pants, his free hand taking your jaw in his grasp as he brings his forehead against yours, "wanna be inside you forever, wanna see your stupid pretty face forever, wanna hear you beg for me forever."

"eren —" you cry, so overwhelmed both physically and mentally. you look into his beautiful jade eyes, watching his pupils dialate with lust — love — as he continues to fuck himself into you

"want this pussy to be mine, 's gonna be mine, y/n. you're gonna be mine." he says, his hold on your jaw growing tighter as he keeps pushing into you over and over and over.

"please, please — wanna be yours" you choke out these pathetic broken sobs that make eren's hearth ache so wonderfully. there were tears swelling on your lash line.

it was pathetic how wound up he's got you in minutes, but the way he's filling you, the way he's talking to you... it's all too too much

"love this cunt —" he breathes, eyes flitting to watch himself fill you, "love your pretty tits, love you. god, i love you — fuck — let me fill you, 'need to fill you, let me cum inside please."

your heart hurts. it hurt so fucking bad but so fucking god. it was all caught in your throat, swelling and choking you up.

you can only nod in his hand, those tears drip past your lashes and stream hot down your cheeks, "please, please cum inside, fill me up. make me yours, eren, i love you — 'always loved you"

your voice is raspy and you can barely hear yourself, but eren hears you. eren hears your confession and it sends him over the edge, and with a low groan, he pushes himself to the hilt and spills his release inside you

"god, yes," your moans are broken as you cum around his cock, squeezing him so nice and milking him of everything he's got

and your release is more than physical. it feels like a dam has broken over, been flooded and poured out to him. you were holding it in for so goddamn long and it's out.

eren holds you against him, holding you so tight because now he's got you.

JUNISFICS © 2021

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #4k