#idk why this pairing tickles my brain so much

[deecotan]

anyway here's wavewave

#transformers #transformers g1 #wavewave #shockwave #soundwave #deeco art #idk why this pairing tickles my brain so much #the idea of two of the decepticons' loyalest members who at first glance seem to be the same type of quiet logical no-nonsense type #but when you really look at them you start to see their differences and how they actually work well together #but also like design-wise. romance between two robots with no visible 'face' is so sexy RAAAAAGGHHH #anyway i enjoy wavewaves dynamic in any continuity #but my personal make-believe (delusional) favorite dynamic is where shocky is just an Evil Science Nerd and soundy is her sexy goth gf #Me and the Bad Bitch I Pulled by Being Autistic kind of stuff basically

[moose-muffin]

Lee Vox enthusiast? Aight bet.

The brain rot I have for this man is not even funny, he's so lee-coded I swear to god-

Probably the kind of lee that provokes their lers into wrecking them (both intentionally and unintentionally.) I.E refusing to let Velvette watch TV on him despite knowing full well she's feeling playful, or getting so worked up about Alastor people will do anything to make him shut up about it.

Height does not matter because he's way to easy to fluster, you could be twice as big or twice as small but the fact remains that he will crumble when his hips are targeted.

Definitely glitches out when he's being got good, might even get to see him flash through random channels if you can really get him going. Just be careful that he isn't too close to any electronics because he might fry them by mistake.

Accidentally caused a black out throughout half the Vee's building one time, it took a week to be fully repaired and Velvette still hasn't stopped making fun of him for it.

Spends 90% percent of his energy covering his face/stifling his laugh (and failing horribly)

I'd throw in some Radiostatic for flavor but I'm not sure how you feel about that pairing so I'll leave it at this for now lol-

Thanks for the excuse to ramble about the TV guy - 📽

ME CURRENTLY: 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

THESE HEADCANONS ARE MAKING MY BRAIN DO LIKE CARTWHEELS AND BACKFLIPS I AM SO GRATEFUL RIGHT NOW!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THESE WITH THE CLASS <3

YOU ARE RIGHT THAT HE’S LEE-CODED!!!!! He is so Lee it’s actually crazy! We saw him at the end of Stayed Gone. That man was stomping his feet.. you KNOW he does that when he gets tickled too LIKEEEE IMAGINE OH MY GOD

THIS PART SPECIFICALLY WAS SO ACCURATE AND I AM OBSESSED. THE FACT IT CAN BE UNINTENTIONAL AND ALSO VERY MUCH INTENTIONAL LIKE WITH VELVETTE WANTING TO WATCH TV ON HIMMMM AND THEN TICKLING HIM TO GET HER WAY!!!!!! THIS IS WHY SHES AN ICON AND ALSO WHY VOX IS LEE MOVING ON

THIS PART IS ADORABLE. BIG SCARY ALASTOR DEMON VERSION OR LIKE VELVETTE BEING A LITTLE SHIT BECAUSE ITS SO FUN FOR HER <3 DONT THINK I MISSED THE TICKLISH HIPS COMMENT. UR SPITTING BARS CURRENTLY

GIGGLING AT THIS ONE!!! THE Flipping THRU CHANNELS!!!!!! IMAGINE HE JUST GOES FROM LIKE SOME COOKING SHOW TO A SOAP OPERA TO LIKE IDK MTV TO LIKE IDK IF HELL HAS IMPRACTICAL JOKERS BUT I HOPE THEY DO OR AT LEAST SOMETHING ADJACENT, REGARDLESS ABSOLUTE TOTAL SILLINESS (please tease him about it oh my GOD he would get so flustered)

THIS IS FUCKINF CRAZY AND I LOVE IT ITS SO CANON. VELVETTE LOVES BRINGING IT UP OR TRYING TO GET HIM TO EXPLAIN IT TO PEOPLE. HE DOESNT TELL THEM AND SHE HAS TO OF COURSE TICKLE HIM TO PROVE JUST HOW TICKLISH HE IS AND THEN TELLS THE STORY. He’s MORTIFIED but also a little flustered and blushy <3 god he’s so gorgeous

oh my god please PLEASE IF YOU HAVE RADIOSTATIC HEADCANONS I WOULD LOVEEEEE TO HEAR THEM!!!! IM SLOWLY BECOMING A FAN OF THEM (not that I wasn’t before, I was just kinda like “haha that’s a funny concept” and now the vision is clearer and im feeling feelings)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK <3 GENUINELY SO KIND AND SWEET AND I ABSOLUTELY ADORED EVERY SECOND!!! YOU HAVE A GREAT STYLE OF WRITING ITS SO FUN AND JUST WORKSSSS

#madi’s answers!! #hazbin hotel tickle #lee!vox #ler!velvette #HOYL FUCKING SHIT THIS ASK WAS SO AMAZING I ACTUALLY ALMOST IMPLODED #I AM SO HAPPY THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH #📽️ anon!!

[bp-zb1fics]

Can you do "cuddles and kisses with lee jeonghyeon", i'm glad if u do something suggestive like lap sitting maybe?? thank youu!!

Ridiculous but you're mine~

pairing: leejeong x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive themes (pls see tags!)

tw/tags: flirting, kisses, making out, hand-holding, lap sitting, non-explicit/implied s*x acts, korean pet names, leejeong being the biggest simp and pretending to hate it (spoiler: he doesn't)

wc: 1592

summary: jeonghyeon values a lot of things but he’ll make an exception for you

a/n Hi anon~ I may have gotten a little carried away with the suggestive part but I hope it's somewhat similar to what you had in mind and it's not too much. Kind of played with a different format writing this fic, idk if it works or not but I am very proud of how it turned out. Any readers for this, please, please do let me know what you think and if I should add additional tags to this, ty!

Check my pinned for more fics~

Jeonghyeon wasn’t a touchy person. Not at all. No thank you.

He’ll accept skinship if he’s feeling indulgent, he’ll freely offer a hug if someone needs it but aside from that, he generally likes to keep his personal space, well personal. 

Until you, that is. 

You don’t even need to do anything. It’s a little infuriating actually. 

You look at him and his brain completely short-circuits.

__________________________________________

“Leejeong-yah~”

He really regrets letting Mun Junghyun tell you about their “leejeong, mungjung cross.” God, that was embarrassing. And it was even more embarrassing because of how cute you thought it was and how cute he thought you were and now he has the displeasure of becoming even more flustered by his own damn name.

“Hmm?”

He’s putting his socks on, getting ready to go out because you wanted sushi and god forbid Jeonghyeon doesn’t give you what you want. It’s a little chilly so he throws on the black hoodie that you like because of how soft it is. 

He reaches for his earrings and his eyes meet yours in the mirror as he looks up to put them on. Jeonghyeon nearly drops the damned earrings. 

Don’t ask him to explain why. Literally no thoughts, head empty. He’s only beginning to recover when you walk over and give him a back hug, burying your face to the fabric of the hoodie while he just stands there, frozen like the idiot he is.

“Wahh so soft.” Your voice is muffled but Jeonghyeon is desperately fighting back the blush that threatens to bloom on his cheeks.

“We should go.” He manages to get out, glad that his voice didn’t crack.

__________________________________________

You hold his hand and any rational thought is reduced to ash.

__________________________________________

As soon as you get outside, the cold hits and Jeonghyeon immediately shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket. Before he can check on you, you’re already linking your arm with his and sliding your hand into your own pocket. Seriously, how can his heart take this?

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, bouncing up and down a little. It’s very cute and really not great for his health.

“Sushi, let’s get sushi~”

You make your way to the restaurant. Jeonghyeon can’t help but look at you, glancing around occasionally to make sure you were following the right directions but eyes always coming back to you. And he can’t help but wonder what he had done right for the universe to decide to send you his way. Someone who loved him with all his scrappy imperfections and flaws.

Suddenly a gust of cold wind tickles the back of your necks and you yelp, one hand slipping out of your pocket and into his. Jeonghyeon freezes as you wiggle your fingers between his, pressing yourself closer like you want to sink into his side.

“It’s cold.”

You say in the way of justification, not like he even needs one. For the rest of the way, you walk like that and he can only ever feel your hand in his.

__________________________________________

You pout, just a little, and whatever values he has, personal, moral, family values, all out the window.

__________________________________________

The restaurant is a sushi train. You’re directed to a booth and left alone with a tablet in case you wanted to order something that wasn’t on the train.

Jeonghyeon begins taking plates. And it was only after you had a sizable serving in front of you that he realised he took all your favourites. Really, when did he become like this? When did it become an instant serotonin boost to see your face light up like that? 

“Leejeong say ahhh~”

He mindlessly opens his mouth and lets you feed him. It’s good. Any food that’s given by you is automatically better than any other food. He’s never been one for public displays but you look at him expectantly, your bottom lip protruding ever so slightly.

It’s like he’s been hypnotised, carefully picking up a piece and feeding it to you. And no, he’ll never admit to anyone how endearing it is to watch you eat, your cheeks puffing out as you chew.

He’s a weak, weak man. And it’s all your fault, seriously it is.

__________________________________________

It’s ridiculous. 

__________________________________________

You stumble back home, bellies full. Kicking your shoes off, you tug him towards the couch and switch on that one drama you insist he watch with you. Both of you started off seated. He sits cross legged while you tuck your feet to the side, his arm resting around your shoulder.

It’s not a new drama you’re watching. No, it's one of those that you like to come back to, one of those you watch without needing to think too hard or wonder what to expect. 

Junhyeon sighs as you lean against him, comfortably pressing against his side. He watches you fondly as you mimic the dialogue on screen, the audio almost like white noise at this point. Suddenly you’re reaching up, fingers skimming feather-light across his jawline leaving little sparks in their wake.

“So handsome~” You murmur, letting your thumb ghost below his bottom lip. Jeonghyeon’s breath stutters. 

“My Leejeongie, naekko!”

He’s going to die. You’re going to kill him. Belatedly, he realises that you’re just imitating the drama. Still, his stupid heart is ready to pound its way out of his chest. Before he can think twice, he gently grabs your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You go quiet. Before he can drop your hand, you pull yourself closer, nudging at him until you’re kneel-sitting between his thighs, his legs stretched out on the couch. 

You drop his hand in favour of resting your palms on his shoulders to balance yourself. His arms are limp by his sides. Jeonghyeon almost stops breathing as you lean forward, your noses nearly touching, trying to keep his cool. You peck the corner of his mouth. He’s an absolute goner at this point. 

For the next few minutes, he lets you litter kisses all over his face, sweet on his forehead, making his cheeks flush hot, his teeth clenching as your lips brush a trail along his jaw. You chip away at his sanity every time you bring your lips to his and pause just before they touch, leaving his mouth a little more dry every time. The last straw is when you bite playfully at his collarbones, giggling at the look of utter distress that washes over his face as you tease up his neck. By the time your lips once again ghost against the corners of his, his hands grab needily at your waist.

“Dammit aegiya, please.”

Jeonghyeon breathes out shakily and you flash him a coy little smile that does bad, bad things to his heart before you finally kiss him. 

__________________________________________

God, you’re ridiculous. 

__________________________________________

Jeonghyeon can’t stop kissing you. 

His teeth scrape slightly against your bottom lip and you gasp. Your tongue flicks out to drag across the roof of his mouth and something so good just bursts in his brain. Hands squeeze your waist again, you squeak and they stroke your sides as if to soothe, sliding down to rest on your thighs. You shift, gripping to the front of your boyfriend’s hoodie and just like that, you’re fully on his lap, straddling him.

If nothing, Jeonghyeon only gets needier.

He’s mouthing at your neck, tongue teasing mindless patterns at the places he knows are sensitive. The little noises that escape you set off tiny firecrackers in his head. Your hands clench uselessly before finding their way to his hair and tugging. Heat blooms at the pit of his stomach and he bites a little harder than he meant to. The strangled noise that it draws from you is delicious and your hips jerk forward, creating friction that has him groaning. His mind is empty, save for the thought of you, how desperate he is for you.

Fingers slip under this hoodie to fidget with the waistband of his pants, every touch against bare skin has him inhaling sharply, his eyes dark and pupils blown out, staring at you in a way that has heat coursing through your whole body. He’s become bold enough to rest his palms over your ass, slipping them into your back pockets and squeezing. Your hands go a little lower and he bites back a curse, resting his forehead on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Any sense of composure is tossed aside, neither of you bothering to see where it’s gone.

It’s all shaky breathing, gasps swallowed up by lips on lips, fabric rustling and the desperate repetition of each other’s name like a plea to the universe to mould your bodies together so that you’d never be apart from each other.

Jeonghyeon’s basking in the afterglow, both of you struggling to catch your breaths. He’s as boneless as you are, languidly draping yourself on top of him, sprawling almost, limbs loose and liquid-like. You giggle and that’s when he notices the drama still playing in the background.

Hands reach for his own, and he swears he can see the stars in your eyes. You’re absolutely going to be the end of him. His heart and his mind and his body and his soul, dangling into the precipice that is you. It’s absolutely idiotic, letting himself drop in so deep, not caring about when he’ll have to hit the ground, running.

__________________________________________

And yet, he’s the one who’s ridiculous enough to fall for you, over and over and over again.

#boys planet 999 #boys planet fics #boys planet drabbles #boys planet x reader #boys planet #boys planet mnet #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fics #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #lee jeonghyeon #lee jeonghyeon x reader #lee jeonghyeon fic #lee jeonghyeon drabble #tw suggestive #suggestive

[oceanlipgloss]

1.1.2024

—nsfw

It's Leraye's turn for some clapping funnn

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

intro: a romantic and intimate concept and manner of thinking that speaks to my artistic tendencies and aggressively tickles my fancy Also. All those headless plushies he has on him? I love. I even want a few. And, I want a pair of his earrings too

update I: he speaks to my writer's mind fr. It's very pleasant, how he talks about the future in that manner but please don't get your hopes up too much, Leraye, for MC is a national star I'm getting fic ideas tho

update II: so normally I don't really care much for sweet talk, but he's pleasantly sugar-sweet lol And that tongue piercing? I. Am. In. Love. Plus, the idea of a man with a playful, innocent charm i.e. like Leraye having such a badass piercing? It's kskdlnshsjs so perfect it's sinful

update III: oh my. Do I have a thing for finger biting? For fingers-in-your-partner's-mouth? Yes, I really do. Does it make me feel things? Yes, it totally does. And his tongue? Pierced and dripping like sin? No, but, excuse me, but—AAAAAAAAAAAH

update IV: dude the way he talks about the future is so romantic and has this rosy mystery to it, I'M LOVIN' DIGGIN' IT

update V: baby is jealous again aaaaaah I love Satan an unhealthy amount is all I'm saying but fuck it's so cute that Leraye kissed her cheek

update VI: it's finally time oh God oh God the H-sceneeeee something I've been fighting for rushing through battles for waiting excitedly for and there's going to be thunder, it seems. YES YES YES this creature loves summer but she's also a biiiig sucker for thunder

update VII: I love you two so much, just that

update VIII: please fuck on the floor please fuck on the floor please fuck on the floor plea— But wow he's suffering hard huh? HOT excuse me, just some sadism coming through

update IX: damn he's really fucked out of his mind just about a goner lol and it's so damn hot I do think that thunder is one of the sexiest things one can hear, so I get why he finds it...appealing but arousing? Idk man...

update X: he's high and soaring. Thunder is screwing his brains out. Help him, MC

update XI: these moments when MC cares and worries for the devils and isn't thinking about getting railed certain things? I love them, I crave them I was hoping they would do it on the floor tho goddammit, MC

update XII: *spongebob narrator* ah yes, the popsicle 'thing'

update XIII: hehehehehehehehe

update XIV: it what 'hot object' And damn, even popsicles have murderous urges. Who would've known?

update XV: MC, ever the cool human, doesn't react to being stabbed by a demon. Rather, she gets busy putting together conclusions

update XVI: wait no that change in attitude and behaviour is so sexy. *Kuzco's voice* uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh but as a writer, I tend to dislike comparing humans/human-like beings to animals (with a few exceptions), so I can't say I appreciate how Leraye is compared to a dog—even though I get why that is Anyways, Zeus the thunder you love is rooting for you, Leraye. Show too-cool-for-school MC the big guns what you're capable of, hon

update XVII: boy isn't even awake lmao it's REALLY hot how he's so dazed that he doesn't even know what he's doing And it's SO hot, what he's doing

update XVIII: nononono the crying horn does so much for me pls THIS did so much for me He's taken in by his feelings so badly that he can't even think straight and such that his horn itself is already sobbing WHAT'S THERE NOT TO LIKE

update XIX: LERAYE? OMFG THIS POSITION??? NONONONONONO I MEAN YESYESYESYESYES YAAAAS I'M ALIVE

update XX: SNDBKSHDBXMS and more thunder = more intensity? YESSSS

update XXI: he keeps chanting her name and let's just say that that kind of thing is one of the things that make my heart stutter and my brain tingle yay another turn-on, another weakness this game is preying on my romantic weaknesses and kinks. Keep at it please

update XXII: ughhhh yesss there we go again with the affecting-each-other's-emotions thing I'm so in love with it sob 'You could feel that since were connected to him' made me ascend because I'm a romantic sap like that you won't catch me dead wishing for romance in real life, though

update XXIII: the. Way. He. Keeps. Saying. Her. Name. The way he whispers sweet nothings into her ear as he makes her nut go nuts. Also, it's so hot that he's licking her neck and all, and with that piercing? I'm screamin' but science is wondering: how do you lick anything DEEPLY? Is there a secret anatomical passage hole in the neck that I'm not yet aware of or—ik what they mean, but choice of words pls lol

update XXIV: thunder is the new drug

update XXV: no but that's another fave switch of mine so sexy, like the man went from friendly and seemingly harmless to dazed and wild then back to innocent and sweet? Oh God shut up this is so cute I'm screaming crying throwing up twerking on the floor

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

edit: okay but no bro, 2-68 and 2-72? Hell fr fr. I barely passed 2-68 after numerous tries and changes in character combinations and locations, except now I keep getting crucified annihilated in 2-72. My God. Those angels and their sorry eyeballs...someone call Andre

Also would you look at that, I just pulled Leraye lol and Phenix, too. And...another Valefor I'm not salty at all, 'cause it's not like I was hoping for a new character anyways but I'm so excited to try Leraye and Phenix out in battle. Leraye's already at level 17 lol

And my God, after I read Zagan's H-scene *SWOONNNNN* I die just thinking about it, I love him sm I pulled Zagan on a free pull, and now I get Leraye in a 10 pull after melting over reading his H-scene. Is this fate? Is this a tradition in the making? I sure hope so

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

4.1.2024

I PASSED OH GOD I FINALLY PASSED LERAYE SAVED ME I promoted him to level 40 and oh my god I can't believe it, I finally did it lol ngl though I feel like there will be more battles like 2-72 and that's nervewrecking but...I'll somehow manage?

Also!

edit 2: "the virginity of your lips," he says. It's a bit too late for that, no? Not that I mind And Satan being happy and proud? Yesss bby YOU BIG CUTIE

edit 3: Sitri my love, jealousy seems to have kind of made you lose your memory. I understand, but please do try to remember who lunged at MC and kissed her upon meeting her for the first time, yes? Do it again

edit 4: someone's been listening to Lana Del Rey

edit 5: and this? This was HOT

Anyways, the main thing I wanted to say is that PAIMON IS SOOO CUTE! I love him already lol <3

edit 6: this game is preying on me, I swear and I'm loving every second of it

edit 7: AAAAAAAARGH <3 I love him I love him I love him I love—

Jokes aside, what Paimon said is sad, but I loved it. I really love the depth he has to him, and his words not only showed that, but also showed the fragility and emotional intensity and vulnerability of devils.

#what in hell is bad diaries #what in “hell” is bad #what in hell is bad #whb #whb leraye #what in hell is bad leraye

[coraphoenix]

In Her Own Time, Like the Sea

Summary: A quiet night by the beach takes a turn neither Natasha nor Jake were expecting...just in different ways.

Warnings: slightly angsty? idk can't think of any. Talking about love.

Pairing: Hannix (Phoenix/Hangman)

A/N: This idea has been present for a while now. Some of you will remember my post about how How Would You Feel by Ed Sheeran inspired this concept. Here it is. Unedited and unlikely to be edited, so just look the other way if you bump into any typos.

Sea breeze floats through the car windows, salty mist riding on its waves and tickling Natasha’s cheeks, tendrils of hair like ribbons of ink against her skin. The crashing of the waves against the shore is as distant as it is near, the sound loud in the quiet car, accentuated by nothing but the sound of her breaths in her own ears, deep and rhythmic. If she listens carefully, she can hear Jake’s too, matching her on the inhales and exhales.

She burrows deeper into the seat, muscles unlocking, weight sinking as she stares out at the darkened beach front, soft lights illuminating the parts of the shore closest to the street. Still, the white foam is visible. Natasha could almost feel it against her feet, slightly cold, the sand damp underneath her. She curls her toes in her flip-flops, breathing in the scent of brine, her lungs expanding until her ribs reach their limit.

A swipe of a thumb against her palm has her breath stuttering, the air thinning as she turns her head, catching Jake’s eyes, his gaze intent on her face. She smiles, relaxed, edges soft, and sees Jake soften too, his shoulders dropping. 

He swipes his thumb over her palm again, and Natasha never thought she could care for hand-holding as much as she does now. But he engulfs her hand with his, and she feels like he’s holding her whole being. So maybe she does care for it.

She breathes in again, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty breeze as he trails his hand up her forearm, over her shoulder, up the side of her neck to her face where he cups her chin softly, drawing her forward. He presses a kiss to the right corner of her mouth, the left, stealing the air from her lungs with each soft touch, and smirks against her when her breath hitches as he presses a final, delicate kiss square on her lips.

His hand follows the trail back down, brushing against her sweatshirt clad shoulder, downwards until he laces their fingers together. She blinks at him, a little dazed with the chill and… him. They do this often, coming out to the beach, parking wherever grants them an uninterrupted view of the sea, sitting in silence. There was always so much noise, from carriers to jets to orders. Here they could sit together, enjoy the warmth that the other’s presence brought into the space without so much as uttering a single letter.

It often leaves Natasha sleepy, her body and mind melted into a state she doesn’t bother correcting.

Maybe that’s why she doesn’t fully register the nervous bobbing of Jake’s throat.

“Nat,” Jake whispers, afraid to disturb their bubble.

“Yeah?” she says, and her voice is a little hoarse with disuse.

He squeezes her hand. “How would you feel…” His eyes dart around her face, and she notices now, her body responding almost immediately. Her pulse picks up. “How would you feel if I told you I love you?”

She gulps, her chest constricting all of a sudden. There is this terrible voice in her head begging her to yank her hand away, but she resists. 

“You’re freaking out,” Jake says, peering at her slightly wide eyes and parted lips.

“I’m not.” She is.

She’s thought about this before. Thought about all the possibilities. When he might say it. If he would ever say it. And everytime, it made her lock up, so she stashed away the notion in one of the old dusty boxes in her brain and called it a day. 

It’s not that she doesn’t…love him. Sometimes when she thinks about him, she feels like she’ll burst from the sheer joy of it all, like her heart’s too big to fit inside her chest, like no amount of air could help her breathlessness. Is that love? Because she also feels like she’s standing on a tightrope thousands of miles away from the ground with nothing to keep her steady. 

She’s been silent for too long. She can tell from the way Jake’s hold loosens slightly around her hand, giving her a chance to pull away. “Jake–”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, soothing and calm despite the note of hurt she can hear. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“Wait.” Natasha turns in her seat, facing him full on. Some of her panic is dulling, its sharp edges being smoothed out, but it’s still potent, widespread and inescapable. She cradles his face within her hands, thumbs hooking around his ears. Her eyes find his, both of them vulnerable in ways she never expected they would be. Natasha huffs a frustrated breath, resting her forehead against his collarbone. Her eyes glisten, the sting of tears sudden. 

“I don’t know how to explain!” she says, somewhere between dejected and furious. Not at him. More at herself than anything else. 

“It’s okay, Nat,” he says, so kindly it makes her ache. “You don’t have to, but I’m willing to listen.”

 “I don’t know how to explain it because I don’t understand it myself.” 

She pulls back, trying to keep her eyes on his. She never had trouble with it before, but something about this is making her want to flee and fight and surrender all at once. Instead, she opens the door, leaning out and breathing deeply, trying to hoard some of the night’s calm to herself. Jake is quiet, but she can feel his eyes on her back.

A couple of minutes later, she turns back in, closing the door. Her lips part, words tumbling and soaring within her in a tangled mess she’s hoping she can solve soon, but Jake beats her to it when she makes a sound. He cups her chin once more, mirror to just moments ago, though it feels like a lifetime back, and kisses her forehead, his lips warm on her chilled skin.

“In your own time,” he says. 

Simple. Irrevocable. 

It soothes the twisting in her gut, so she can breathe a little easier. And she has no way of knowing, but maybe this is love… a hand holding her own, a heart cradling her heart. In her own time, like the sea washing upon the shore.

#natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #hannix #hangman x phoenix #natasha trace x jake seresin

[giggly-squiggily]

Squiggly my beloved happy Valentine’s Day.

Since my brain never turns off, and I continue to consume s o much media, I am here to humbly request some Lee Asta Ler Yami content.

I would love Cutie (What are you trying to hide?) and Darling (Do you want me to tickle you?)

And idk if it counts as a Bestie, but I totally see Asta replying to the second prompt with a very sad and dejected “yes please :< “

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE

Happy Valentines Day my dear Ducky! (Haha, this one's actually coming out on the date!) Thank you for gifting me the opportunity to write for the best Captain of Black Clover! I hope you're having a fantastic day! (And thank you for this adorable gif I am soaring!)

Cutie ("Why are you trying to hide?" + Darling ("Do you want me to tickle you?") + Bestie ("Yes please).

“Hey, kid. What’s going on with you?” Yami asked, starting Asta out of thought.

“Nothing at all, Captain!” The kid replied too quickly. Yami raised a brow.

“You know I can read your Ki, right? Why are you trying to hide?” He turned to look at the smaller bull, growing curious at the faint blush crossing over his cheeks. “You’ve been acting off all day. Did something happen?”

“No…well, yeah. Nothing bad just…” Asta gestured, as if that would tell the older Black Bull what was up. When the brunette stared, Asta flushed, scratching the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “Magma and Luck…they were having a tickle fight…”

“Okay?” That sounded pretty normal.

“Well…I wanted to erm…join. But I didn’t.” Asta laughed, a nervous tick. “I kinda…hesitated.”

“Kid. What have I told you about hesitating?” Yami sighed, making Asta flush in shame. “So I take it you want to be tickled, yeah?” The kid didn’t speak, but his Ki told him everything. “Alright.”

“S-Sir?” Asta blinked, confused.

“Do you want me to tickle you?” Yami offered, as if he were offering his leftovers. Asta blinked, letting the offer sink in.

 “You’re gonna…tickle me?” He almost sounded hopeful.

“If that’s what you want.”

“...Yes please.” Asta nodded after another moment, starting to smile. “So what do we- whoa!” He yelped when Yami grabbed him, pulling him into his chest with wiggling fingers. “Ah! Ahehahahahhhahahaha! Chahahahhaptahahhahhain! Gehaahahhahahaha!”

“What? I’m just giving you what you asked for!” Yami snickered, easily picking up the tiny Bull, fingers flying all over his torso. “Don’t bother denying it- your Ki tells me you’re enjoying yourself, kid.”

“AHehahahahahhahha! Yohohohoou alaahahhahahreheahhahahhay knhehhehehehhhew thahahahhahaht! Pfft- gehaahahahahaha, Cahhahahaptaiahhahahain pleahhahahahhase! Noohohohot thehehehehre!” Asta all but squealed when Yami’s hand dug into his belly, poking into all his soft spots. “It tiiihihihickles tohoohhoohoohohoo muhuhuhuhuhuhuch!”

“Does it now?” Yami brought his other hand over, now attacking his belly with two hands. “Good.”

“CHAAHHAHAHAHAPTAAHHAHAHAHHAIN!” Asta shrieked, thrashing in Yami’s arms. His cheeks were bright red, eyes squeezed shut with mirth and he squeaked and snorted. “IIHIIHIHM GOHOHOHOOHOHONNA DHIHIHIHIHIIHE!”

“Like I’d let that happen.” Yami smirked, clearly amused. “This is a great opportunity to surpass your limits. Come on- let’s see how long you can endure it.”

~Send me a pairing and a candy heart phrase~

#Candy Heart Valentine Event #chve2k23 #tickle #tickle dabble #black clover #yami sukehiro #asta #fluff #Captain Yami being the best captain hands DOWN! #kjaekjrjakrjkajker

[charlesdesvoeux]

💛 and 💕 for the ask game👁👄👁

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

I can get into most things if I've read a good enough fic- I wasn't into joplittle, for instance, but I've read some great fics featuring them and now I'm a fan. There's some pairings I don't really *get* on like a gut level- like they just don't tickle my brain for one reason or another, not that it's a "bad pairing" (what the fuck is a "bad pairing" anyway? i adopt a ship and let ship philosophy). For instance I don't really get Irving x Tozer- except for a great fic I've read about them called "damn your wife I'd be your mistress (just to have you around", which is a Tozer x Irving x Armitage love triangle. But the one I really don't get at all is Tozer x Little- I mean, I get them in the sense that they have some interesting parallels and that great interaction in Canon, but like I said. It just doesn't tickle me.

💕: What is an unpopular ship that you like?

How do I define "unpopular ship", I mean, there's so many guys and we are always throwing them together in different configurations- probably every terror pairing you can conceive of has at least one fic out there, I think. If we go just by number of fics on ao3 stanvoeux might be taken as "unpopular"- there's only about 40, but there's so much love for them here on tumblr (at least among the folks I follow) so idk. But ok. John Irving x William Elphinstone Malcolm is very dear to me but Elphie was never mentioned in the show so i guess it's a grey area between show canon vs historical rpf. But yeah jirv x malcolm is very special to me- I have a bookmark tag for fics which happen to mention malcolm even if only in passing. I also like tommypilks/pilkingtage (writing a post-survival au for them right now) and I think hartnell x des voeux has potential to be juicy (there's literally only one fic for them in the ao3 tag and it's bc they're also a pairing in the stanvoeux attic wife au)

#answered

[quinloki]

QUIN I'm so sorry to hear about your shoulder!! Shoulders/knees/wrists are always the worst you don't realize how much you move them until they're hurting.

I just woke up a bit ago so this might be a little rambley but maybe that's perfect for a distraction

FIRSTLY omg those headcanons cracked me up bc Ace/Sabo would def just be so distracted. Like Ace walking into a mast bc you took your shirt off while working bc it was hot and now he's just passed out on the ground (with Marco in the bg just laughing and shaking his head) Omg and Marco turning into a bird. That would be HILAROUS. Baby Marco was so cute and silly I can just see the tiny little bird he'd turn into. Omg you give him a hug randomly to thank him for something and bam, bird.

OKAY SO I was reading Marco stuffs last night trying to slowly push Sabo out a LITTLE bc my god was he taking up a lot of brain space and now they're just both in there UGH.

I'd say rn in my brain it's Law/Marco/Sabo/Ace and I was thinking last night it's interesting bc while Law doesn't really have anything with the other 3, there's perfect little things in an AU where he could just interact with any of the other 3 and idk man why have one when you can have more than one >> I have expanded in my brain poly with law/marco, or marco/sabo, or tbh sometimes law/marco/ace but my brain is currently considering law/sabo and I'm like hm. That is an interesting dynamic and idk how much it makes sense but I will continue to think about it.... I can't think of a good basis for them to be around eachother in an AU. Like Law/Marco tbh I read a fic on them as doctors so that got me and then the whole brother thing with Sabo/Marco but uh... hm. I will continue to think about Law/Sabo.

One more random thought that I thought while reading fanfic last night: I wanna bite Marco That man is too composed I can just see it throwing him off guard even if it doesn't leave a mark and even if he punishes the heck out afterwords (bc doing it in the middle of the ship would be the funniest, and not at all a bet with ace/izou/thatch, noooo)

Hopefully my waking up rambles can distract you from your shoulder for a bit >o< make sure to take it easy as much as possible!!

Answering this in reverse order - it was MONTHS ago but the idea of tickling/biting Marco on the deck and getting him to *Yelp* is an idea someone kicked around with me on anon. I still have the ask in my inbox because I want to sit and do a solid one-shot for it xD

So yes. Yes to all of that and especially the payback afterward >.>

Sabo/Law… I’ve seen that pairing (thank you Dressrosa for causing their paths to cross canonically)

They could be college classmates - there’s general courses overlap between degrees, and Sabo is a Lawyer in modern AUs in my mind.

(Oh gods could you see this cheesy blonde bastard straddling Law and pulling off his shirt. “Don’t worry, I have a PhD in Law, you’ll enjoy what I do to you.”

Poor Law is like I need you to fuck me until I forget you made that awful joke.)

Maybe it’s a meet cute deal if we’re talking threesome with the reader. They all frequent the same cafe.

Sabo’s already working in a firm finishing up his degree. Law’s in a similar boat with his doctorate, or already established since he’s a little older. The reader could work at the cafe, or own it, or she’s a professional dom and just likes the cafe on its own merits.

They don’t interact at the cafe but they’re aware of one another as regulars.

The club the reader works at is run by Ivankov, and Ivan’s friends with Dragon - the main name in the legal firm Sabo works at. Sabo drops by the club for legal reasons and recognizes the reader, they chat a bit.

Law’s friends end up getting him a pass for the club and he gets his world rocked by the reader in ways he wasn’t expecting. (There are promises to keep distance at the cafe.)

Sabo doesn’t have those promises and chats with her when they’re in there together (law totally gets a little jealous and doesn’t know why.)

Then an accident or wreck or something has the reader dragging Sabo into a hospital and Lo and behold who does she run into?

Law saves Sabo, and in updating the reader realizes what their status is and that’s the beginning of the three of them becoming friends and then more.

#quin answers #kazieai #I thinks that’s the first dom reader idea I’ve ever had #and I don’t normally vibe Law as a bottom #power bottom would work better - bratty little shit for the reader to wrangle #but he folds when he comes and becomes much more pliant after #>.> sabo likes to watch #but he certainly participates too #reader insert #x reader #polycule

[letangent]

Ooh what's your favorite obscure trope you'd like to see more of in fics?( Or not obscure, but not common in the hrpf sphere?) Mine is magical proximity-when they can't get more than a couple feet away from each other. Or magical obedience- where even accidental orders have to be fulfilled by the other person, and they feel a satisfaction/relief by being useful. I think it's a delicious way for the characters to discover things about each other, and it goes well with the "please let me lie at your feet" thing

oh my gosh I love how your mind works, I've actually never really read any fics around those tropes but wowww now my brain is whirring. soo much good food there, would be so cool to see in the hrpf sphere (esp between teammates but also like opponents?? wowie)

aside from the big two I mentioned earlier in regards to the hrpf sphere: tbh I'd love to see more love potion/curses stuff (idk why but sometimes harem-coded fics tickle my brain), and honestly maybe even time travel (I'm v partial to time loops and love to see those being used a decent amt lately, and also big fan of the "younger version gets zapped into the present", but I haven't seen a bunch of "old player zapped back into the past" that could be cool to see). also: mistaken identity/identity porn fics, esp when it's something paired with like soulmate markings/communications got me downnnn bad, ahhhh. sooo much I'd like to see

#hockey rpf for ts #anonymous #will be thinking a lot abt that magical obedience..... #trope playground

[venusiangguk]

I would cry if you made a mini drabble or comment on how dilf Jk and OC are doing. Are they still together?

the art of wanting drabble: gardening and pool day with dilf jk and baby nari

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers / fwb / fluff

>>rating: PG

>>word count: 1.2k, drabble

>>warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, implied smut, cutest baby ever

>>notes: just a lil update on the favorite not-so-couple couple and the apple of their eye, little nari <3

>>summary: nari plays in the dirt while jk gardens and you make a bet.

The blender was very fancy and had a lot of buttons, but alas, you made due and are now stepping out into the backyard, hands full of watermelon juice. Two with just a pinch of the rum you found in the built in wine cooler by the dishwasher, one with a spill proof lid.

It's your day off from the god forsaken grocery store, and the sun is beating hot outside, but the light breeze makes it bearable. The pool a little ways away gets more and more tempting as the heat sends waves to your bare arms and back. The bikini top you’re wearing basically useless as protection from the sun.

Good thing you’ve got a certain someone to sunscreen your back for you.

Jeongguk is shirtless, his sleeve on full display. His long hair is being held back by a baseball cap, and he’s got his gardening gloves on. You watch as he uses the back of his tattooed arm to wipe at some of the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He looks sunkissed and just edible.

You reign your thoughts in however when your eyes move next to him.

Little Nari is sat on a small blanket with a portable umbrella keeping her in a small patch of cool shade, her little toes dangling off the edge and digging into the small pile of soil that Jeongguk provided her to play in. He even put a few weeds and some of the flowers that were on their last few days of life into the mix. Nari digs one out with her pudgy little hands and squeals as she raises her hand for her dad to see.

Jeongguk, the ever doting father, takes in his baby and laughs when he sees that her overly large sun cap has fallen into her eyes. He adjusts it on her head, and you hear him give a playful gasp as you get closer.

“Oh so pretty, little flower,” he coos, “Is that for me?”

Nari snatches her hand away from him. “Nuuuuw, Da,” she shakes her head with so much force her whole little body jiggles, her round tummy on display in a tiny bikini of her own.

You smile to yourself and you take a seat with Nari on her blanket, stealing a bit of her shade. You hand Jeongguk his drink with a soft grin, and he smiles back at you, soft and sweet as he takes the glass.

“Oooh look what ___ brought for us,” he says, to Nari, “What do you say?”

Nari whips her head around to you like she didn’t notice you sit right next to her. She giggles, baby gurgles sounding in the backyard air. She claps her hands as she smiles at you her round doe-eyes squeezing shut in glee. That’s when she seems to remember the small blossom in her hand.

Her eyes go wide and her mouth parts in a small ‘o’ before she extends the flower to you.

“Buuu?”

You bend down to her level, and she tucks the flower into your hair as best she can with her baby motor skills and then wacks at her dad’s knee.

Jeongguk glances over at you as you grab a nearby watering can and use it to clean Nari’s hands before handing her her juice. She suckles on the sippy straw until she absolutely has to stop, gasping and taking deep breaths before getting right back to her sweet treat.

Her dad glances between her and you trying to figure out why his daughter tried to get his attention. His face falls and he gives a playfully annoyed expression.

“You know,” he starts, “Maybe Daddy wants a flower every once in a while.”

Nari is unbothered as she fists her sippy cup in one hand and the other goes right back into the dirt.

You giggle as you sip your drink and then lean back some, resting on your free hand. “You have the prettiest flower all to yourself already,” you say, nodding in Nari’s direction.

Jeongguk’s face softens, and he goes from looking at you to his little baby. He laughs quietly as he pinches her tummy. She giggles and some watermelon juice dribbles down her chin, unable to swallow before getting attacked by her daddy’s tickles.

Her hiccuping babbles and baby giggles are contagious, and you can’t help but join along. Nari puts up with her dad’s pestering for a good amount of time before she screeches and holds up a tiny dirt covered hand, as if saying ‘stop’.

“Nuw, Da,” she babbles. She’s getting closer and closer to talking as the days pass, even in the short months that you’ve been coming around, she’s already made progress.

Jeongguk’s eyes shine with laughter as he nods, a closed lipped smile holding in his own giggles. “Oh, okay, sorry,” he tells her, flicking his eyes to you before back to Nari, “Carry on, the weeds aren’t gonna pull themselves Miss Nari,” he gestures to her pile of dirt. Nari nods, a diligent little weed puller indeed.

“Hey,” you whisper after a few moments, the both of them back to work, “Gguk.”

He turns to you, a question on his face. You don’t respond right away, just smile at him and he gives in, leaning back and angling himself towards you. Nari sat between your bodies, in front of you.

He’s resting on his elbow, his upper half in the shade with you. He smiles up at you lazily. “What’s up?”

You glance at Nari making sure she’s distracted, and then you flip his cap so it’s backwards, before placing a small hand onto his hot, red face. You angle him towards you and it warms your heart at just how easily he goes with you and lets his eyes fall shut, already knowing what’s about to happen.

You kiss him softly, before deepening the kiss just a bit before pulling away. He tastes sweet like watermelon, slightly salty from the sweat on his upper lip.

He hums, eyes still closed a soft smile still on his mouth. “What was that for?”

You pat his cheek and flip his hat back around. “Just because,” you say quietly. Then you wrinkle your nose. “You’re so sweaty.”

He nods, unashamed. “Working hard.”

You glance at the tempting pool. “Why don’t we ever go in there?”

He hums. “Nari doesn’t like the water, and I don’t do anything without her.”

A little idea forms in your head. “I bet if I go in, she’ll go in.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”

You nod. “I win, we… you know,” you raise your eyebrows at him. He blushes a little, but a ghost of a smile dances on his lips. “You win, we still… you know.”

He gives you a knowing look, plucks his gardening gloves off before he uses the arm he’s not leaning on to reach over and adjust the flower Nari put in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you can be quiet enough while we… you know?”

With an excited grin you nod and run to the outside pool shed to grab Nari’s floaties. That baby will be a little mermaid by the time the sun goes down.

~~~

aha!! a little drabble to update you guys on dilf jk, since he do be living in our heads rent free. so to answer the q: they are together but not together together. i have a longer one shot in my brain that includes more plot and actual smut, but idk when i'll get around to writing it so hopefully this will hold u guys over till then !! sry for the blue balls, but just so u know jk had to cover oc's mouth and he might've scolded her while they were... you know... "I thought I told you to be quiet?" :o ok byee

also i hope u like it :) if u did, pls do all the things: like, reblog, comment, share, send an ask~~ as always i love hearing ur thoughts and talking to u :*

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #dilf jungkook #jungkook fic #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #bts fic #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #kwritersworldnet #bangtanuniversity #kdiarynet #btscreatorscorner #btsghostie #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #taow drabble #tao jk

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader blurb #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #something about this man fucking the bad day out of you 🥰 #what a gentleman #ANOTHER 3K DOOZY?????? #WHA T TH E FUCK??? #mine*

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

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

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

[jeonqquk]

permission to date | jjk

pairing | jungkook x reader genre | RICHHHH!JK , crack n then angst jskskdk idk it’s super weird , lame attempts at serious shit wc | 996 words summary | the one where jungkook seemingly forgets the fact that adults could make decisions for themselves notes | the irony of the fact that jk is a richboi in the fic but a prisoner in the header✨aNYways i just had to use this title lmao hope you enjoy btw tags weren’t woking, i’ll check it out tmrw morning first!

feedback is always welcome!

“We don’t need permission to date, Jungkook.”

You exasperatedly sigh, lolling your head back onto the couch and take in a deep breath. Beside you, Jungkook is not as relaxed and fidgets on the soft sofa, playing with his fingers which is a habit of his you’ve grown accustomed to. He did this a lot when he was stressed about something, would shift uncomfortably again and again until you asked him what was bothering him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand.” He turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed and you groan, “I don’t need to, Kook. You’re literally a 23-year-old CEO of your own company and don’t know if you’re allowed to date a girl?”

“It’s not that exactly..”

He nods, hesitantly and you can’t help but find his irrational fear funny. You try to stifle but let out a laugh, and watch as Jungkook widens his eyes, scandalised at the prospect of you finding his dilemma even the slightest bit laughable.

“Oh, this funny to you?” He sneers, although there is no malice present in his tone. You play along, teasingly nod and watch his facial features contort from distressed to cheeky. His lopsided grin and twinkling eyes only serve to prove you right further that he was thinking of something.

And that something could never be any good.

Jungkook moves closer to you on the couch, and you eye him suspiciously, unaware of what was going on in his brain.

“Let me give you something to laugh about.” He doesn't give you any time to digest his words before he’s tackling you to the floor, fingers digging into the flesh of your stomach and he straddles you, restricting your movement.

Jungkook tickles you like there’s no tomorrow, certainly giving you something to laugh about as he totally disregards your pleads to stop and keeps going. “Take that.” He’s unwavering as you try to move him away but the force of your laughter has you backing down, hands moving of their own accord to gt aay from his tactics.

You try to catch your breath between the loud laughs, “Jungkook! Stop i- Stop!” He ignores your words, or rather screams, of protest and continues tickling you with renewed vigour. You’re howling with laughter at this point, soft chuckles that were meant to keep your dignity forgotten, hands desperately trying to push Jungkook’s devilish ones away.

“O-Okay! I’m sorry!” You pant out in between the giggling and he pauses, “What’d you say, baby?” When you don’t respond, too busy catching your breath, he resumes ticking your stomach, laughing himself as you thrash around uselessly in his hold.

“I-I said I’m sorry!” You finally manage to get out, still trying to push him off and he finally relents, getting off you and moving to lie down beside you on the carpeted floor.

Jungkook’s white formal shirt is crumpled, both your hair a mess and you blame none other than the man in front of you for that.

“I hate you.” You turn to face him, breathing heavily and he moves a strand of hair away from your face. You shrug him off, resting sideways on your elbow and ask him, “Still don’t know if you can date me?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/n, you know that.” You nod. Jungkook and you are practically already dating at this point, you do all the couple-y stuff but the only thing left is making it official to the public.

He’s made it pretty clear to you that he wants to be with you. But, you don’t get why he was so afraid of finally revealing it to the media. He’s had his reasons, you guess, but it had been too long and you wanted answers.

“I really want to tell everyone about us, Y/n, I really do. I just don’t know how the public will take it. You know what’s happened to partners’ of other celebrities because of fans and I don’t want that to happen to you as well.”

His words sink in, and you completely agree with his concerns. If you had been in Jungkook’s place, the same worries would have weighed you down. However, he doesn’t need to worry about others’ opinions affecting you. If there’s one thing he should’ve learn about you after being together for almost a year- it’s that you don’t give two flying shits about what others think of you. It’s safe o say that you’re as independent as a woman could be and you want him to know that you’ll be okay even those around you don’t approve of your relationship.

You want his happiness, only. What others thought didn’t matter in the least to you.

But, Jungkook was different.

He was always so self-conscious, always thinking about what others' would like and doing things the right way. He was raised that way, you couldn’t do anything about it. Jungkook had practically been born in gold, having all the luxuries one could dream of right from the day he saw the world.

He had always been in the spotlight, the media always around him looking for juicy stories. Every single thing he did was being kept track of, and that definitely played a part in his current personality.

It was extremely rare for him to talk about his feelings too, so seeing him like this- addressing his worries was a first.

“I know, Kook, but you gotta know that I don’t care about them. I only want you, only want you to be satisfied.” He looks straight at you, dark eyes holding so much emotion in them. “You sure?” He softly questions, hand coming to rest on yours.

“Are you sure, Jungkook? I know how hard this must be for you and-“ You’re cut off by his lips meeting yours, gently moving in sync. He pulls off with a sweet pop.

“I don’t want anything more than to show my girl off to everyone.”

© intokook | absolutely no reposts/modifications/translations of works tolerated.

#ficscafe #multifandomnet #blackswannet #jungkook #bts #bangtan #jjk #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts crack #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook crack #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #kpop #k-pop #kpop fics #bts fics #jungkook fic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #fluff #angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabble

[warmblanketwhump]

Idk if its too late to send this in but if it isn't, how about ⬤ and ✿?

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

(note: this MIGHT be cheating but my poor brain was stuck on ideas SO this is a part two to this prompt fill! would recommend reading that first for context, but pretty sure you can enjoy them independently :)

To any other person, the remote cabin would have looked like any old shack – slightly dilapidated, covered in moss, nested away among the trees. But to a lost, soaked, chilled-to-the-bone A, the cabin looks like a warm little slice of heaven, and it takes all they have not to run up the stairs. Instead, they slide an injured B off of their back and help them hobble to the small porch.

The pair limp across the threshold of the cabin and leave the pattering rain behind them, entering a small, spotlessly clean living room that smells of cedar and pine. A large, squashy-looking couch faces a dark fireplace with a tall stack of split logs nearby, and to the right of the doorway is a small kitchen. In the back, A spots a darkened bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a linen closet. The cabin's rustic, so there's no electricity or hot water - just a single spigot and a gas stove for cooking.

They set a trembling B on the couch, pushing away the guilt of yelling at them earlier, of making them come out here in the first place.

“I’ll find us some towels and blankets. Can you start getting your wet clothes off?” Amid their violent shivers, B nods and starts shedding A’s raincoat and their own denim jacket with pruned, fumbling fingers. The sight nearly crushes A, but they know someone has to go find blankets to help them both get warm.

A pushes into the bathroom and locates several clean, threadbare towels, then heads to the linen closet. They nearly burst into happy tears when they see the large bundle of hideous plaid blankets and a couple piles of flannel and thermal clothing stacked neatly in the corner (forgotten by whoever rented it last, they guessed) and grab as much as their numb fingers can hold.

When they return to the couch, they find B in nearly the exact spot they left them - denim jacket off one arm, on the other, rain jacket fallen to the floor. They're hunched over, stiff with cold, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh sweetheart.…” A sighs, dropping the blankets on the couch and rushing to them.

“T-tried to ch-change. F-fingers won't-t work-k. I’m s-sorry-”

“B, you have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped you in the first place.” A unthreads the soaked clothing from B’s shaking frame, gently patting their wet skin dry and lightly squeezing the water droplets out of their hair with a towel.

B’s eyes are bleary and unfocused, but they respond to A’s simple commands as they dress them in a pair of warm red flannel pants and a grey thermal long-sleeve. A casts a glance towards B's swollen ankle - it's not the worst injury they've ever seen, but it's definitely got to hurt. They dart back to the bathroom and locate a small first aid kit with a cloth bandage, and tenderly wrap up the sore ankle to immobilize it.

When they’re finished, they wrap B in two blankets: one around their legs and elevated ankle, and the other over their wet head and trembling shoulders. B sneezes, cinches the blanket tighter and groans.

“Look-k like a Russian p-peasant woman.” B grumbles, and A can’t help but let a chuckle escape. They really do look like a grandma, with only their face sticking out of the blanket cape.

“Alright, then, babushka. Let me get a fire started, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Mercifully, it only takes a few minutes for A to get a roaring fire going. A drapes another blanket around B's shoulders and gives them a quick, reassuring rub.

“I’m gonna change, okay? You just worry about warming up.” B moans weakly and pulls the blanket over their nose, edging closer to the flame’s heat.

A peels off their wet clothing in the drafty bedroom, hurriedly drying their own cold skin and pulling on their own warm clothes - a cream thermal and blue flannel pants. The brief exposure makes them shiver, and they chafe their arms and legs to rub away the goosebumps and the damp chill that sinks into their marrow. For just a moment, they acknowledge how cold they are, too. God, they wish this place had hot water.

The adrenaline of the moment begins to fade, and several facts strike them at once. They were freezing. They were stuck in a remote cabin with no electricity for the weekend. This whole weekend was their idea - and all their fault. And they felt guilty as hell about it.

Squeezing their wet hair, they shove the intrusive thoughts from their mind and grab a blanket from the bed to wrap tightly around their own shoulders, along with a couple pillows from the bed for B.

On returning to the living room, they see B managed to hop on their one good leg over to the fire, leaving a trail of two of their other blankets behind. They’re huddled as close as possible to the warm glow, head resting on the hearth. A drops the pillows on the couch and kneels down, running their fingers through B’s damp hair, now exposed by the fallen blanket.

“Feeling any better, love?”

B gives a small, wan smile that fails to light up their peaked face and shakes their head, turning to cough. When they’ve finished, they shudder weakly, pulling the blanket tighter.

“Can’t shake the chill in my bones.” B coughs again. A can see them rubbing their arms under the blankets. “Heat’s bouncing right off me. And I ache all over, not just my ankle.” Another chill rattles their teeth, and they pull the blanket up to their chin. “I just can’t warm up at all.”

A pulls a shivery B into a hug, rubbing their shoulders and trying to share the little body heat they’ve created - unlike B, the fire’s warmth is beginning to thaw them out. In the dim firelight, A can see a sheen of sweat on B’s forehead, and alarm bells go off. Instinctively, A reaches out to press their cold hand to it. It’s warm now. Too warm for someone who just spent two hours trekking through the cold rain.

"Sweetheart, you're feverish. That’s why you’re achy and chilled.”

“S’pose it makes sense. I’m just freezing.” A gust of wind rattles the cabin, and a draft snakes its way into the living room, making B shudder and curl up even closer to A. “I’d kill for a hot shower right now.”

“Don’t go all ‘The Shining’ on me yet - we just got here.” A grabs a towel to try and further dry B’s damp hair. It was probably an old wives’ tale, but they didn’t have many options to keep a sick person comfortable out here, and wet hair couldn’t feel good.

B had complained about feeling a cold coming on a couple days ago, and mentioned that they might not want to go this weekend. A had made fun of them for it, joking about how someone like B never let a little cold get them down. And now, thanks to them, B was even sicker. They really were the worst friend in history.

“Do you think you could manage some tea?" A asks quietly. B closes their eyes and nods, laying their head back on the hearth.


It takes a few minutes, but A manages to light the gas stove and locate a kettle, along with a dusty box of herbal tea tucked away in a cupboard. Whoever they had rented from had stocked it high with all kinds of canned soups and dry goods, so at least they’d be prepared for the long haul.

A sudden glance out the window reveals that the rain has turned into fat, white snowflakes, whirling in the sky and dusting the porch. A rubs their hands together, holding their chilled fingers as close to the stove flame as possible. The kettle whistles and A pours two cups, reveling in the warm steam that tickles their nose.

Once the tea is brewed, they make their way back to the fireplace. B's too weak to lift their own head, so A sits behind them and props them up, holding the teacup and helping them take small sips of the warm liquid. Once the cup is empty, A helps B lay their head back on the hearth before adding a few more logs to the fire and starting on their own tea.

Despite the warm fire, A can feel the ambient temperature of the room dropping. There's no way B's going to stay warm enough in the bedroom, so they’ll just have to make do out here for now.

After pushing the couch until it's just inches in front of the fire, A sweeps B into their arms and helps them back to the couch, easing them gently onto the pillows they've laid and tucking a blanket back around them. Even this close to the fire, the brief movement had set off another round of bone-shaking chills in B, and they grip their blanket so hard A’s afraid they’ll tear it.

“A?" B's voice is weak.

“I’m right here.”

“A, can you hold me? Please?” The desperation is palpable. B’s breathing is hoarse and they're close to tears, arms wrapped tightly around themselves. “Shivering hurts, but I can’t stop. I know you probably don’t want to get sick from me-”

A’s heart breaks. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll keep you warm.” They slide onto the couch and wrap their own blanket around the both of them, pulling B’s fevered body to their chest. B clings to their body, and A can feel the shakes that ripple through them. A gently massages their arms and back in slow circles and B presses closer, the vulnerability almost too much to bear.

Finally, A says what’s been eating away at them for hours. “B, I’m so sorry for what I said on the trail. I shouldn’t have said it, and I didn’t mean it. I do want you here. And now we’re here, and you're sick and hurt and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry for that too.” The apology comes out in such a rush, and B is quiet for so long in their arms that they doubt B even heard it.

But then they feel B’s trembling arms squeezing their waist. “Nature’s not your fault, A. Besides, if being taken care of is a part of your apology, it's warm and I'll take it."

A grips B even tighter, fighting back tears. “Whatever happens this weekend, I’ve got you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do. You always have,” B mumbles as they slip into a restless sleep. In front of the warm fire, A reasons that the drafty bedroom was probably too cold for anyone to sleep in. No, they were perfectly content to stay right here with B - and not even the promise of a warm shower could lure them away.

#this is a damn novel but whatev #I loved it too much to stop #sickfic #sickfic prompt #whump prompt #cold whump #cabin whump #shivering #flu #fever #blankets #hurt comfort #lost in the woods #this was so fun to write #literally sat on this the entire holiday weekend #edited this SO MANY TIMES #this is what happens when you adore a trope #my writing

[shoutogepi]

Best Friends

┌───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.7k

[ ☁︎ ]  angst

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : unrequited feelings :’( really brief mention of sex (not nsfw tho!) & also (underage?????) alcohol consumption! 

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : On your last night in the dorms, Shouto realizes he has feelings for you, his best friend. 

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : idk honestly i started writing this last night and was gonna abandon it... but then val tagged me in an angst ficrec and i was like ok well! this is a sign to post bc then i will have at least one sho angst on my masterlist lolll oops :o

└───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┘

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃onight was the last night in the dorms. Three long years had come and went, and now everyone’s belongings were cleaned out and secured away with cardboard and tape, leaving an empty wing that was currently filled with bodies, neon lights, and red solo cups. Music was pounding through the hallways, reaching every room and allowing no one total escape from the celebration.

You had been occupying the dance floor with Mina and Tsuyu for the last half hour, and now that you had sweat off the latest drink of the night, it was time for you to set off and find your more moderate-tempered companion. The pink-skinned girl wiggled her eyebrows at you when you alerted them of where you were heading off to, Tsuyu planting a love tap on your ass as you made your way from the swarm of people. The frog girl wasn’t usually so loose, but the alcohol that pumped through everyone’s veins had left only a select few unaffected. Tsu, just like you, was one of the ones that was happily allowing the weight of daily student life slip from her shoulders.

There were plenties of warm bodies swaying with the heavy bass rattling the hallways, shadows of couples and interested singles leaning against the walls, whispers and rowdy laughs echoing as the entire graduating class of UA partied the night away. Skimming by the line outside the bathroom, your feet found their way toward the end of the hall easily enough, taking the path you had so many times before.

A creak sounded as you pushed the cracked door open, the sight of the open shoji screen allowing moonlight to stream onto the bamboo mat floor which crunched quietly underneath your tentative steps.

“Shouto?” you whispered his name, eyes taking in the silhouettes of the packed boxes against the walls before you turned and saw a shadow sitting on the mattress beside the door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your voice jolted Shouto from his wandering thoughts, his attention turning to you right away. He seemed surprised to see you standing there, and he peered up at you from his slightly hunched position on the couch. He acknowledged you with your name, his voice low and steady. By the sound of it, you wondered briefly if he had even had a drop to drink tonight.

Blinking at him a few times, you tried to adjust your eyes to the contrast between the bright moonlight and dark shadows. When you could finally see the planes of his handsome, somber face, you spoke, trying your best not to slur. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”

He paused, lagging for a second before the corners of his mouth curled and his eyes crinkled at the sight of you. “Just thinking,” he answered, examining you in that intrigued way he always did. After a moment he must have reached the conclusion that you were some level of smashed, for he patted the empty space next to him on the bed with a smirk and said, “Come sit with me.”

For a moment you wondered why he was alone, but then your brain caught up with you, and you realized that his other friends were probably busy with their own issues or endeavors. Ever since Midoriya finally grew a pair and asked Uraraka out, the two had been going at it like rabbits every spare second they had. And you could only imagine how busy Iida was as class rep, trying to keep the party at least a little bit under control. Momo was definitely helping him, and you had seen Bakugou begrudgingly holding Kaminari up with Kirishima under his other arm when you’d passed by them in the hall… Leaving only you to come and rouse the half and half hero from his solitude.

“Well that’s not allowed tonight!” You exclaimed, fist slapping against the side of your thigh. You would’ve used both hands for emphasis had the other not been occupied with a half-full plastic cup. Your legs felt like jello as you moved toward him, his cool hand wrapping around your arm to offer his support and steer you into the spot beside him. You almost fell but he held you up with the one arm, chuckling as your butt finally met the safety of the duvet.

“Thinking’s forbidden?” he laughed at your insistence, the sound rich and deep as his hand lingered on your wrist.

“Yes,” you nodded vehemently, pulling your hand away from his to cradle your precious cup and shooting him a playful, sideways glare.  “Brain turned off for the night. It’s in the fine print of the party rules, of course.”

Shouto gave you a funny look, eying you from the side. He repositioned himself, sitting upright and closing his eyes. It was hard for him to remain stoic when the quiet sound of your amused giggles tickled his ears, but he managed a nod before his eyes settled on you again. “Okay, I think it’s off.”

Conversation was always natural between the two of you, he never had to struggle to keep it flowing. And he liked talking with you, being in your presence. Which was the only reason why he was still entertaining this ridiculous charade.

“How do you feel?” you inquired, a goofy grin on your lips.

There was a twinkle in your eyes as you teased him, but Shouto held no qualms with your playfulness. Most people were still afraid to joke with him, believing that he was too obtuse to understand humor. Sure, he had struggled with the transition to school life in the beginning of their first year, but after you had transferred into their class second year, he found himself opening up even more than he already had.

“I feel… the same.” The grin on his lips remained, his eyes settled on your drunken form. His gaze flicked to your smile, shining in the moonlight and making something twinge in his stomach. He cleared his throat, pushing down the feeling that haunted him every time he looked at you too long. “This doesn’t really work, does it?”

You pretended to entertain the thought for a moment, eyes rolling as you considered it animatedly before your lips broke into a beautiful smile again. “No,” you giggled, shoulders shrugging in your cute, drunken fit. “But it’s easier when you’re not sober!”

He turned, faux surprise hung from his brow. “You’re drunk?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and splashed onto you where his jean-clad thigh brushed against yours.

“Shut up!” You punched at his shoulder and pushed him away from you, shuffling yourself in the process.

Your hair swished with the movement and suddenly the soft, sweet scent of you was crashing over him. He breathed it in shamelessly, allowing himself to indulge in the warm feeling that suddenly emanated through his chest.

“You could try it, if you wanted. It really does help,” you offered your cup to him, shrugging.

Shouto eyed the red plastic cup, hesitant. He really wasn’t one to drink, but then again, neither were you. Tonight was about celebrating your graduation from UA, opening the next chapter of your lives. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on when it meant leaving all his relationships either behind him or pushed to the side. Okay, maybe he was kidding himself… there was only one person he would miss having in his daily life, and that person was sitting right beside him— the same one who was the source of his conflicted feelings.

“Or not!” your hand retreated and you took a little sip, the sweet jungle juice washing down your throat easily. “No pressure. It’s your choice, Sho.”

He nearly groaned at the nickname, the one he only allowed you to call him. Grabbing the cup from you, his calloused fingers brushed over your soft knuckles. He smirked at the excitement that surfaced in your gaze as he brought the lip of the cup to his mouth, emptying the contents in one long go. The liquid was sickly sweet, masking the bitter poison that entered his body alongside it.

“That was… truly disgusting.”

“Whaaat?” You balked, grabbing for the cup in dismay. He kept it out of reach, even though it was empty, setting it on the far table instead. “It’s good, I dunno what you’re on. It’s really, really good. Heheh, just like me…”

Shouto blushed at the innocent innuendo, looking at you as you closed your eyes and let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh. He gulped, realizing that the alcohol was already taking effect and he was beginning to slip under its influence. Your method of “turning your brain off” was proving to be much more effective with the alcohol’s aid, but that was a whole other issue which he failed to foresee. 

He usually preferred to keep his brain on and fully functioning, especially when he was alone, with you. That way, when you roused the butterflies in his stomach and pulled on his heartstrings, he could tell himself to just ignore it and focus on how important your friendship was to him. But now, his defenses were failing him, and there was nothing he could do to stop his heart from beating faster, palms getting clammier.  

“You’re good?” he reiterated quietly, watching the way your tongue swiped across your lips, enchanted by it.

You chortled, finding the thought entertaining, apparently. “Yes! I feel really good right now.”

“Ah,” he murmured, sitting back and allowing the pillow he had propped up to sink around his form. “I feel... kinda good, too.”

A mix between a laugh and a scoff escaped you at his confession. “You feel something already, Sho? Wow, that’s so efficient.”

Shouto didn’t really know what you meant by that, but he only smiled softly at the happy look on your face. He closed his eyes and listened to the fast rush of blood in his ears, the feeling of warmth prickling at his skin. He wasn’t drunk, per se, but he felt a little lighter than usual.

You had said that drinking would turn his brain off, but it seemed only part of it wasn’t functioning. The other side of his mind was working overtime, much to his chagrin. 

He was suddenly aware that this would be one of his last moments with you before everything would change. You were going to an internship not too far from his, only an hour away by train. But seeing you wouldn’t be nearly as easy as walking down the hallway… and it could only happen if the both of you found a time that worked and had the motivation to travel the distance to meet one another. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to do all that, just to see him.The realization hit him hard. 

No more sneaking to one another’s room and having whispered, midnight conversations. No more studying together and simply being in your presence. No more opportunities to let his gaze linger on you longingly, nor chances for him to grab your hand when your knuckles brushed against his in the middle of your walks. 

He felt sick at the thought of living without you. Maybe… maybe it was time for him to face his feelings head on. He had spent so long denying the recognition of them, the acceptance of them. The loss of you was imminent, unless he could finally force himself to say something, and it had to be soon.

As if you had picked up on his distress, you hummed quietly and shuffled closer to his side. His quirk spiked at the sudden proximity, heat flaring up as your head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m a sappy drunk, so I apologize for what I’m about to say,” you mumbled into his t-shirt, his skin prickling as your warm breath wandered through the seams and onto his skin. 

He huffed out a laugh to ease your worries, but he stayed absolutely still, unwilling to move a muscle in case it would somehow scare your body off of his. 

Then you whispered, “M’so lucky to have met you, Sho.”

Shouto choked on thin air, subtly wiping the moisture on his palms across the tops of his denim-covered thighs. Your scent surrounded him, and he couldn’t resist resting his head on top of yours, slowly breathing between your locks. “I… I feel the same, Y/n…”

It was quiet for another moment, his mind playing out a hundred ways to confess, trying to find the right words. Meanwhile, you were simply enjoying his reciprocation and the peacefulness of the quiet away from the party, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

You sighed and he shivered as your breath scattered across his collarbone again, almost jumping when your fingers landed softly over his. How you remained so soft with their vigorous training, he had no clue. But your fingers felt so warm, so right lacing with his. His throat was thick with apprehension, a lump forming there as the seconds ticked by. It wasn’t often the two of you were sitting so close together, and he wondered if he was a piece of shit for thanking whatever God there was out there for you being kind of inebriated and so touchy right now. 

Slowly, he turned to look at you, eyes wide and conflicted, taking in how truly astonishing your beauty was up close. You lifted your head from your perch on his shoulder, gaze locking with his before your lips curled into a meek smile. Digits tightening around his, you squeezed his hand and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, screaming at him to do something— anything— whatever it took for him to just form the words and tell you that he was in love with—

“Thank you for being my best friend.”

—you… He blinked, the words registering. 

You continued. “I know we’re moving away from each other, but I never wanna lose you. I cherish our friendship too much for that to happen, Shouto.”

Your words cut him. 

Friends. Friendship. 

His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins and he had become a statue, stock still as you carried on thoughtlessly, eyes now flickering over to the moon hung low in the indigo night sky. 

“Please promise me that we'll never change. We might grow as people, but… our friendship will stay intact, right? I don’t wanna grow apart.”

It hurt. 

Time had stopped and his lungs shriveled up, his body aching as if you had just lodged your knee straight into his ribs. His tongue tasted bitter suddenly, and he could almost hear the sound of his heart cracking.

But Shouto was good at hiding his emotions, years of compartmentalizing them giving him an edge that no one else he knew had. He kept his face neutral, even if it felt like he was withering and dying inside.

“I just… don’t ever wanna lose you.”

It was almost impossible to force his lips into a thin, hollow smile. But he managed, even if it felt like prying iron with a crowbar. He looked into your eyes and nodded.

He understood. To some extent, he truly understood. 

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/n... Don’t worry,” he took a deep breath, forcing the next words out even if he felt like he was about to be sick.

He cherished his bond with you too much to risk chancing it, confessing to you, and throwing it all away after your certain rejection.  He loved you too much to ever hurt you, and he was too selfish to let go of you, too. The only one that would suffer from this was him, and he was alarmingly alright with that.

If it meant that he got to hold onto you, even for just a little bit longer. 

If it meant that you would be happy... Even if he wasn’t.

“We’ll always be friends... I promise.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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afJSNKJKDKJ WRITING ANGST FOR MY BABY IS SO HARD AHH I LOVE U SHO PLS... reader is so dumb to see u only as a friend i hate that dumb bitch  ughhh (TдT)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#shouto todoroki fic #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki angst #mha angst #bnha angst #shouto fic #shouto x reader #shouto angst #todoroki fic #todoroki x reader #todoroki angst #mha fic #bnha fic #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shoto fic #shoto angst #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki fic #shoto todoroki angst #shoto todoroki x reader

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

o children

pairing: harry potter x gn!reader

request: Hello! I would like to request a Harry Potter x reader where is basically the dancing scene from the deathly hallows part 1 but Harry is dancing with the reader instead of Hermione (she could be outside making guard or choose to go with Ron idk) and when Harry and y/n stop dancing they look at each other's eyes and kiss? You don't have to write it if you don't want to :'( but I would love to read something like that, anyways thank you!💖 (Sorry if my English sucks)

warnings: none, just loads of fluff.

note: i love this scene w/ hermione and harry, even if it is a bit awkward at first lol. hope you enjoy! gn!reader

-

your hands scrunched up in your hair, ready to pull out all remaining strands. you chuckled to yourself, biting your lower lip as you realized this situation was much more stressful than the O.W.L.’s you’ve taken in the past.

that, and you’ve lost two of your closest friends.

you cannot imagine how harry feels, even though he sits across the room from you. he seemed. . .hollow? a song echoed on the radio and it seemed to fit the atmosphere - melancholy.

as you glanced to your left and took in the lamp beside you, soft footsteps filled the tent. you sighed softly, wondering if harry was going to get some air. it was odd; the room was so spacious, yet in light of recent events, it felt so small.

you wished ron and hermione hadn’t left; you and harry needed them both. they were the brains and the brawns of this entire journey - yet, you understood why they left. it was getting to be too much, too risky. ron had a big family to get home to and if something were to happen, he would not be able to live with himself.

and hermione, ever the saint, needed to be there for ron and make sure he was okay, that he wouldn’t do anything brash.

but it always seemed like you and harry needed each other.

the footsteps reached your own feet, making you look up at the sweater-clad teen. he held his hand out, shakily waiting for you to accept. you let out a small huff before accepting his hand.

pulling you up, harry gently guided you towards him, your flannel rubbing against his sweater in a soft manner. harry reached behind your neck as your eyebrows furrowed, feeling him mess with the collar of your shirt.

you went to say something but bit back your words and harry pulled you into the center of the tent, slowly pulling each of your arms towards him and then back again. the song on the radio, which you learned was ‘o children’ by nick cave and the bad seeds, seemed to grow louder as you reluctantly let harry pull your limbs.

however, as the song continued, harry proceeded to pull you towards him and spin you around. you let out a laugh, feeling as if you were at the yule ball once again. looking at him, you noticed he too had a smile on his face, his cheeks lighting up at the times where you both were so close.

with a giggle, you pulled back and twirled harry, his hand still intertwined with your own. he kept spinning, making you laugh even more as he stumbled over his own two feet. as he finished twirling, harry pulled you into his arms once more, letting you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

with two hands intertwined once more, harry rocked you both back and forth in such a discordant manner that you couldn’t help but laugh. the feel of your breath against his neck tickled him and made him flustered all at once, keeping his ears trained on the beautiful sounds that left your mouth.

stepping back once more, harry pulled your arms towards him one at a time, feet almost stomping onto the floor. you both pulled towards one another, eyes never leaving each other. harry let go of your left hand, extending your right arm until he twirled himself back into your arms. 

why, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, head thrown back slightly as harry looked at you with so much admiration.

twirling you once more, harry pulled you back into his arms, your cheek resting against his shoulder softly. he leaned down, resting his own cheek against the side of your head. he slowly swayed the both of you, the sound of the song putting you both at ease.

as harry had his cheek against your hair, he softly inhaled your scent, butterflies filling his stomach as he felt your hand squeeze his. shifting his head, harry pressed a soft kiss to your cheek that was exposed to him. from the corner of his eye, he saw a smile form on your lips.

as the song reached its climax, you pulled back and looked at harry, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms immediately going to your waist. you leaned forward as did he, your foreheads almost resting against one another. looking up at harry, you noticed a soft blush covering his cheeks, “nice dance moves, potter.” a smile soonafter graced your lips as you played with the hairs at the back of his neck.

harry chuckled, “you’re not too bad yourself, y/n. felt like a princess when you twirled me those times.”

you leaned your head back slightly with a laugh, “did i twirl you or did you twirl yourself?”

he leaned down towards you in a soft motion, almost hoping you wouldn’t notice, “hmm, i guess you do have a point. haven’t had such great dancing partners.”

you moved a hand to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his skin, “well i thought you danced wonderfully,” you whispered.

harry licked his lips before responding, “i just had a great partner.” he leaned down, noticing your eyes were closing as he softly grazed his nose with your own, a small laugh escaping your lips. harry chuckled himself before he closed his eyes, meeting your lips in a soft kiss.

one of his hands laid a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing it as his lips moved against yours. it was a bit sloppy, you won’t deny it, but it was perfect. it was so harry potter.

you smiled against the kiss, loving the feeling of his hand against your cheek. pulling back slightly with your hands still around his neck, you saw how flushed his cheeks had become, head slightly bowed as harry became embarassed.

“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised that the chosen one is such a good kisser, huh?” you joked, releasing one of your hands to mess with his hair.

harry let out a huff, “i feel quite the opposite - i may need some extra lessons - if you’re willing to teach me, of course.”

you let out a soft laugh, “why, i’d be a terrible teacher if i said no!”

harry leaned down, brushing his nose against yours once more, “better to get started on these lessons sooner than later, don’t you think?”

giving him a quick peck, you returned your hand to the back of his neck and he wasted no time in leaning down once more, capturing your lips in a kiss that had butterflies erupting in your tummy.

after tonight, ‘o children’ had certainly become your favorite song.

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