#m*me WISHES she had this guy's sensitivity she can only HOPE to be where fort is mentally one day

[prapais]

petition to let fort rewrite the entire novel

#asiandramanet #asianlgbtqdramas #asianlgbtqdrama #love in the air #prapaisky #fortpeat #lita #mygifs #fort the man that you are....... #m*me WISHES she had this guy's sensitivity she can only HOPE to be where fort is mentally one day #im so glad they changed some parts in the series because this is insane. fort i thank u so much for your service <3 #god i love him i love him so so much!!!!! #you're rich SPEAK YOUR TRUTH KING

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #a big weight is off my shoulders

[fawnandshadows]

After the Ceremony - Chapter 3

I had so much fun writing this chapter, and I could not be more excited to share it! Please let me know what you guys think, and I also wanted to thank everyone for their support because I was so convinced that no one was going to read this, and I am so incredibly flattered at the response I have received. This story is also available on AO3

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.

Words: 2,938

Story Rating: M

Elain was giddy. She couldn’t remember the last time she woke up and was excited about the day ahead of her. Well, before the solstice she used to wake up and be content and hopeful. She would tend to her garden and try to make the world a more beautiful place; gardening was something that she was good at, something that she enjoyed, and it was something that was just hers. There were many times, before Feyre had been taken, that she wished she could have done something more substantial for her family, but they couldn’t afford the seeds to grow any food, and she didn’t even know how to grow food. So, once Elain settled into her fae life enough, she decided to learn a valuable skill - one that almost anyone would approve of.

She learned how to bake, and then she learned how to cook. The twins were surprisingly gracious and they were more than welcoming and patient with her, and before long Elain started to think of Nuala and Cerridwen as friends. The first friends she ever made that were hers, and hers alone. She knew they worked for Feyre, Rhysand, and Azriel, but the twins weren’t friends with them.

It was during this time that Elain started to hope to see Azriel every day when she woke up. Whenever she was with the twins there was always a part of her that wanted Az to show up and ask for a report, he almost never did, but she imagined it just the same. He would come in after a long day, and she would offer him the chocolate chip cookies she baked herself - Elain made those cookies at least once a week after learning they were his favorite- and they would simply enjoy each other’s company. She dreamed that he would open up to her, because the Mother knew he needed someone to talk to, and Elain would give him a lovely, cozy space where he would forget about his spy business for a bit. A space that he could think of as home.

And then there were the daydreams where Elain imagined they did a little bit more than talk. On many occasions, when Elain was alone in the kitchen baking bread and covered in flour, she thought of Azriel storming into the kitchen in a flurry of emotion - sometimes it was anger, but it could have been passion, or even an overwhelming lust - and he would take her into his arms and kiss her as if his life depended on it. They almost always ended up covered in flour, or whatever Elain was cooking, and right when her imagination was starting to get interesting somebody inevitably walked into the kitchen, and it was almost never the person she wanted it to be. Sometimes her family could be such busy bodies.

None of her fantasies lived up to the real thing.

The real Azriel, the one crafted from flesh and blood and bone, was so exquisite that her dirtiest most intense fantasy seemed childish.

Her heart pounded wildly just thinking about it.

A soft knock sounded from the door, disrupting Elain from the memories she was reliving over and over again, and Elain told whoever was knocking to come in. She briefly entertained the idea of feigning sleep, but she had already lazed in bed for almost an hour. A small indulgence she allowed herself - normally she would rise with the sun and immediately throw herself into the garden, or help with breakfast, or do something to show she was useful.

Feyre, to Elains surprise, entered the room and shut the door behind her.

“Good morning.” Elain raised herself up and smiled at her sister.

Feyre had not yet dressed for the day, she still wore her navy silk nightgown and robe, and it warmed Elains heart to see her sister in such finery. She was happy that Feyre found herself a mate that treated her like a queen - she deserved it after everything she did for their family. There were times when Elain felt the crushing urge to hug her sister, and she decided after last night to grant herself those small kindnesses - she had come to learn that it was never a bad thing to show someone you loved them, even if you couldn’t say it.

Elain had opened her arms and said, “Doesn’t it seem like a fine morning for a cuddle?”

Feyre laughed and walked over to her sister before plopping herself into the bed and into Elain’s open arms.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” Feyre said with a sigh - as if she were remembering the last time it happened and how everything had changed since then. “As much as I love Rhys he tends to hog the bed. He kicks off all the covers and then has the audacity to accuse me of stealing them, can you believe that,” Even though Feyre’s voice held a hint of exasperation Elain knew there was a smile on her face, probably one that found its twin on Elains face. “I barely got any sleep last night. Nyx woke up crying and I had to search the entire house for his favorite toy, you know the one - the stuffed bat that Cassian got him. Somehow it ended up downstairs in the ballroom.”

Elain felt tears start to well in her eyes. She was just so happy for Feyre, and her joy was only amplified knowing that Feyre was happy. Feyre was completely, utterly, and divinely happy.

“Is that why you decided to join me this morning? To get some peace and quiet?” Elain asked.

It was Feyre that almost stumbled upon her and Azriel last night. Her cheeks warmed not only at the memory, but at the fact that Feyre almost saw them. Elain was almost certain that Feyre didn’t know about the scene she interrupted, but still she wanted to make sure.

“Yes and no,” Feyre said, and Elain could tell from her voice that she wasn’t going to like what her sister said. Feyre shifted on the bed to face Elain. “Were you downstairs last night. I thought I smelled you, and you know how not great I am at distinguishing scents,” It was true. For all of her power and abilities, a keen sense of smell wasn’t one of them. “But I thought I smelled you downstairs when I was looking for Nyx’s bat. Of course when I actually got into the room you weren’t there, and I know my nose has been sensitive ever since I was pregnant, so I could have just been smelling you from earlier.”

A small smile tugged at Elains lips, and the delightful urge to share with her sister moved through her.

“Can I tell you something?” She asked shyly.

Feyre’s eyebrows raised as she said, “Of course.”

“I need you to be my sister. Not High Lady.”

At Feyre’s nod Elain couldn’t hold back. In excited whispers she told her sister everything that she felt, and most of what transpired last night, Elain kept some of the more private details to herself.

“That explains the torn nightgown.” Feyre commented at one point, and Elain couldn’t contain the giggle that burst out of her. It had never really been like this between her and Feyre, Elain had always drifted more towards Nesta, but she was glad to have this moment with her younger sister.

“Feyre,” Elaid started with a bit of hesitation. “Has Rhysand ever talked to you about me?”

Feyre’s brow furrowed a bit as she thought.

“He adores you, and he thinks of you as his own sister, but I can’t think of anything recently.” The two sat in silence for a moment before Feyre exclaimed, “Oh! He loved the tarts you made the other day, the apple ones, he was rather put out that you saved the last one for Az,” Feyre nudged her with her shoulder. “Although that makes sense now.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything else?”

“No, why? Should he have?”

Elain debated whether or not she should share this part, that part of Rhys being a meddlesome mother hen, with Feyre. She thought that her sister would be on her side, but Elain didn’t want to be responsible for a rift between her sister and her mate.

She shook her head and said, “No reason. He just stepped on my toes a little harshly last night, but it wasn’t his fault. Cassian was practically falling on him, and when Rhys tried to get out of the way he landed on my foot. I was hoping to tease him about it today, but I’m afraid he might have been a little too tipsy to remember it.”

Before Feyre had the chance to respond, Nyx's cry filled the air.

“I suppose the day has to start at some point,” Feyre said and she rolled out of bed. “Starting it with my sister and son seems like a pretty good way.”

Elain nearly tripped over her cobalt dress as she rushed down stairs. She couldn’t help it. She was just too excited to start the day and to see Azriel again. She wanted to see him in the light of day, not that she minded seeing him in the shadows of the night when it was only them and the Mother, but Elain wanted to see his face blush with unobstructed vision, and she wanted his hazel eyes warm in the light of the sun.

It had been too long since they allowed themselves to be together in the light of day.

When she reached the kitchen Elain wasn’t surprised to see it was only Nuala and Cerridwen in the kitchen. Her friends gave her sly smiles as they took in her goofy grin and red cheeks before saying good morning to her.

“Good morning,” Elain replied, eyeing the cinnamon rolls that just came out of the oven. The rest of her family must have been waiting in the living room before breakfast, and a thought popped into Elain’s head. “Did you guys use the recipe we just came up with?”

“Yes.” They said in unison.

Elain didn’t stop herself from piling three rolls onto a plate and filling up a mug with coffee. She bit her lip to contain her excitement as she made her way to the swinging door, saying a quick goodbye to her friends before leaving the kitchen.

The trek to the living room was short, but the anticipation made butterflies flutter in her stomach. She knew what she was about to do, she was going to offer food to another male while her mate was in the room, but Elain was determined she wasn’t going to hide her feelings anymore. She brought Rhysand and Cassian food all the time whenever she wanted to surprise them. Elain even went out of her way to bring Amren the croissants she liked because Elain remembered how Amren was the only one who thought her strong enough to look for the Dread Trove objects, and Elain wanted to show her appreciation.

When Elain stepped into the living room no one noticed her. No one but Azriel that is, and even though he didn’t show it she was certain he was aware of her presence.

Azriel was on the far side of the room, in front of a big bay window, smiling down at More. Hesitation and fear threatened to break her resolve, but Elain moved before she could talk herself out of it. She suddenly remembered the one burning question she had forgotten to ask.

She had to trust Azriel.

As she approached them Elain was suddenly overwhelmed by Azriels beauty. She spent so long avoiding him that it almost felt indecent to look at him freely and openly in the light of day. The morning sun illuminated his tan skin and set his hazel eyes aflame. She could even make out a hint of blue in his inky hair. Hair that she had just found out was as soft as it looked.

“Good morning,” Elain said as she stopped a few feet away from them. “I brought you something. I know you love to have sweets in the morning, but you’re too disciplined to indulge yourself.”

His face was unreadable, but there was an undeniable warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. Elain was sure he noted that her cobalt dress matched his siphons which caused his eyes to go molten. Elain heard the conversations turn dull, just for a moment, before returning back to normal - and she was certain that a pair of violet eyes were watching their every move.

Elain could also feel vexation radiating off of Lucien as he watched them from his place next to the fireplace. Feyre, Elain noticed on her way in, planted herself firmly between Lucien and the group Elain was with.

Azriel took one step towards her, and Elain inhaled deeply his scent of night chilled mist and cedar. A small thrill skittered down her spine as his scent intertwined her own. Az let out a raspy thank you before taking the plate and the mug. He took a deep sip on coffee, his bright eyes maintaining contact with hers over the lip of the mug, and Elain would have sworn that the entire room disappeared.

Her eyes left his for a moment as they watched his tongue trace over his lips. Elains hands fisted in her dress to stop herself from grabbing his face and kissing the coffee away.

Elain watched as he set the coffee on the windowsill before picking up a cinnamon roll and taking a bite. A small groan emitted from the back of Azriels throat.

“Good morning.” A chipper voice broke Elain’s connection to Az.

Elain mentally shook herself as she looked at the blond standing with them. She had completely forgotten Mor was here standing with them, and Elain recognized the amusement in Mor’s tone.

“Good morning,” Elain managed a small smile as a furious blush overtook her face. From the knowing grin on Mor’s face Elain knew she had witnessed everything that just happened between her and Az. “You’re a lovely dancer. I saw you last night.” Elain had hoped to distract Mor with conversation.

“I think you might have been more interested in my partner.” Mor winked at her, and her face somehow turned warmer. She was blushing more than she ever had before. Elain noted the satisfied, and proud grin, that formed if Azriel’s beautiful lips. She wanted to kiss that grin off his face.

Mor looked between the two of them, as if she could see something that they couldn’t, and a frown appeared between her eyebrows. She quickly excused herself and left the room.

“Was it something I said?” Elain asked as she watched the blonde leave. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Of course not,” Az said quickly. His hand reaching out to touch her, she shivered at the feel of his calloused hands on her skin. He quickly dropped her hand and reached for his mug, took a sip, and then thought for a moment before offering it to her. “You are never an interruption.”

Elain didn’t hesitate before taking a drink of his coffee, she had brought it to him black because he liked it that way, and Elain almost always dumped way too much sugar in her own coffee. It thrilled her to know they were sharing a drink, and that they were doing it in front of everybody. They were done hiding. It moved her, and made her insides turn to gooey, as she realized that this was a giant step for them - that it was Azriel that initiated it. They could write off her bringing him breakfast, but sharing a drink was as intimate as they have been in front of everyone else.

Her eyes widened as she felt a damn break inside of her. Before her eyes, a silvery blue chord appeared and flowed towards Azriel, who just looked at it in complete surprise. It looked like a river flowing from her heart into his and after a moment or two it dissipated.

They looked at each other without saying a word, but somehow they were more aware of each other. She swore if she concentrated hard enough she would be able to feel his heart beating in his chest.

No one else seemed to be aware of what had passed between them. The conversation still raging around them, and Elain knew that if Lucien had seen what happened he wouldn’t have stayed put on the opposite side of the room.

“Do you know-” Elain cut herself off at the shake of Azriels head.

Elain opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t know what, but stopped at the appearance of the twins and the announcement that breakfast was served. She brought her hand to his tentatively, giving him the option of pulling away, and gasped at the jolt that went through her as their skin touched.

What every passed between them felt electric, and Elain noticed the warmth that was pooling between her legs and the need to rip her dress off to feel more of Azriel’s skin on her.

“Ready for breakfast,” A friendly voice asked her and a heavy arm landed on her shoulder. Elain looked up to see Cassian smiling down at her, looking a little too fresh considering how drunk he was last night. “Not everyone got special cinnamon rolls this morning.” Cassian winked over his shoulder as he steered her out of the room.

#elain archeron #elain acotar #elriel fanfic #pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain x azriel #elriel #after the ceremony #after the ceremony chapter 3 #my work #my fanfiction #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar

[afeb]

Draco Malfoy - Ravishing

I walked out the Yule Ball early, a sickening feeling growing in my stomach as couples began to slow dance. It simply reminded I’d come here solo off the back of Hermiones advice: fat lot of good that was.

I wandered the empty halls of the castle, taking my heels off and walking bare foot. I watched as Draco, also alone, turned the corner ahead of me. I decided to follow him, having nothing better to do. I turned the same corner and frowned as he seemed to have disappeared.

“Follow me, Y/L/N?” I jumped as I peered behind a large black curtain, seeing Draco sat on a stone bench by himself.

I moved to sit across from him. “Better than being at that ball.” I sighed. “Where’s Pan?”

He shrugged. “Went off with some Slytherin.” He bitterly said. “Where was your date?”

“Didn’t have one.”

He scoffed and smirked. “Really?”

I frowned and folded my arms. “What’s so funny about that?”

He raised his hands. “Not funny, I’m just surprised.” He defended.

“Oh...” I sighed. “Well, thanks I guess.”

He leant back a little as his eyes trailed over me. “So what’s your ancestry?” He asked.

I frowned. “Why does that matter?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering.” He drawled out, when I didn’t reply he asked again.

“Just...witches and wizards, like everyone else.” I vaguely replied.

“So no muggles?” I shook my head. “So you’re a pure-blood?”

I scrunched my nose. “Don’t use that word.”

“What, muggles?” He smirked.

“No.” I snapped. “The P-Word.”

“Pure-blood.” He said loudly. I simply glared at him. “You know, you and I should really stick together.”

“And why’s that?” I asked.

“There aren’t many pure-blood families around anymore, everyone these days has some muggle in them.” He bitterly said. “How come I never knew? My family knows all pure-bloods.”

I stood and went to leave, finished with this conversation but Draco followed me. “My family aren’t like yours, we aren’t proud of our heritage.” I shortly said, heading towards the Ravenclaw home room.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets. “They should be.” He said. “So you keep it a secret then?”

“As best I can.” I said as we stood outside the Ravenclaw painting.

He gazed at the portrait. “You’re not in Slytherin?” He asked.

I scoffed. “God no.”

He looked mildly offended before a smirked graced his face. “Well, I’ll leave you alone then.” He leant a little closer. “You look ravishing tonight by the way.”

Before I could respond Draco turned and cockily strolled away.

***

“I’m home!” I called into the house as I dumped my suitcase on the floor. “Hello?”

I walked into the kitchen where my mother and father were deep in conversation. “Ah, just the girl I wanted to see.” My father smiled as he enveloped me in a hug.

I chuckled and squeezed him tight. “What were you guys talking about?” I asked as I hugged my mother.

“This.” She handed me a letter.

Dear the Y/L/N Family,

You are cordially invited to the Malfoy Mannor for lunch on the 20th of December.

Please RSVP before attending.

Yours sincerely,

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

I frowned down at it. “Well obviously we aren’t going.” My mother and father shared a look. “You aren’t seriously thinking about going.”

My mother stood by my side. “Your father seems to think he can convert them to our way.” She sighed. “I don’t.”

My father looked at both of us. “Look, we made a decision to incorporate the muggles way into our life, we said Y/N could see muggles if she wished. If our family can do it, maybe they can too.”

“Do you know anything about the Malfoys?” I asked. “They’re vile people.”

My father looked sternly at us both. “We’re going, end of.”

Both mine and my mothers mouths dropped. “I’m not being nice.” I said.

My father smiled and kissed my forehead. “I don’t want you to be.” He smirked before leaving the room.

***

Our carriage pulled up to the Malfoy Mannor, the family patiently stood on their doorstep. I rolled my eyes and looked over at my mother, who was doing exactly the same thing.

“If for nothing else, enjoy the food.” My father winced before opening the door and helping us out.

“Mr. Y/L/N,” Lucius opened his arms. “A pleasure to meet you!”

“And you.” My father curtly said.

They shook hands before the attention turned to my mother and I. “Are these beautiful ladies with you?” I wanted to gag.

“Yes, this is my wife, Y/M/N, and this is my daughter, Y/N.” I didn’t take the hand that was offered to me.

“Pleasure.” I shorty said, my eyes flicking to Draco as he held back a smirk.

“Please, come in.”

You wouldn’t believe Christmas was in five days. The house was dark and cold, no decorations what so ever apart from a feeble Christmas tree in their large living room. It was far too big and grandiose, it was cocky.

We were all soon seated around the table, an excessive amount of food laid out on the table. The servants placed napkins on our laps.

“Thank you.” I smiled brightly at the older lady.

“We don’t thank the help.” Lucius politely said.

“I do.” I innocently smiled back.

I saw Lucius fists ball for a second before he tightly smiled. I didn’t have too much food, more so pushed it around my plate to appear as though I was eating. My father and Lucius spoke about everything from politics to Hogwarts. Nacissa attempted to speak to my mother, but much like me my mother either ignored her or didn’t make an effort in the conversation.

Thankfully Draco didn’t speak to me, simply stared into space. “Draco,” his father said. “Why don’t you show the lovely Y/N around our house whilst we discuss other matters.”

“Yes father.” Draco said before standing, beckoning me after him.

I looked towards my mother who smiled encouraging, her eyes telling me to convince Draco of our ways. My father smiled brightly as I left the room, Draco leaning against the wall in the hallway. He perked up when he saw me.

“The lovely Y/N.” He mocked, offering me his elbow to hold.

I slapped him away. “Get on with it then.” I grumbled.

We didn’t speak as we wandered the house, ending up in the library upstairs. I gazed around the books as Draco watched me closely.

“You like reading?” He asked.

“Oh yes,” I sighed. “I love books. Any type, it doesn’t matter to me.” I turned to smile at him.

He stood and approached me, I grew a little uncomfortable as he reached over from behind me, his chest brushing my back. “This is my favourite.”

He pulled a small book from the shelf. “Tales of Beedle and the Bard.” I smiled. “My mother always read this to me.”

Draco smiled down at me. “I had a Nanny growing up and she always read me stories.”

We gazed at each other for a moment. “No muggle books, I see.” I noted, stepping away and looking out the window.

Draco scoffed. “Why an earth would we have those?”

I shrugged. “Some of them are good.” I defended, opening the small book in my hand and reading over it. “There’s an author called Terry Pratchet and he comes up with the most amazing stor-“

“I don’t care.” Draco snapped. “Whatever it is, it’s terrible. Everything they do is terrible.”

“And everything you do is so great?” I snapped, slamming the book down.

“All those muggles do is start wars and mate, they’re hardly intelligent creatures.” He sneered as he stepped towards me.

I scoffed. “What about the war You-Know-Who is starting, and how do you think you were born?”

He peered down at me. “At least our mating is clean and right, they’re just like animals.”

Our faces were close together. “I’d happily mate with them.”

Suddenly Draco grabbed my jaw and pressed me against the tall window. “Don’t say that.” He snapped. “Someone as pure as you shouldn’t even consider mating with such filth.”

My small hand tried to pry him away, but he was too strong. “Why does that bother you? Hm?” I glared.

His eyes flicked down to my lips. “Because I want to fuck you.”

Before I could utter a word his lips were harshly pressed to mine, body rubbing against me. I attempted to push him away but Draco stayed put. He was good, too good. I slowly ran my hands through his hair, his evil smirk forming against my lips.

“Knew you wanted me.” He jeered, lips pressing down my neck. “You’ve always wanted me.”

I gasped as he bit my neck, sucking the sensitive flesh. “Draco.” I breathed out, rolling my hips up against his.

“Want it, little girl?” He taunted. He quickly spun me around, hand immediately palming my behind. “You can have it.”

His hands went to the hem of my skirt, pulling it up and over my ass and groaning as he saw my green underwear. “Like you knew I was going to fuck you.” He sighed before moving my underwear to the side and sinking his fingers into me. “So wet.”

I moaned deeply and pawed behind me, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. His fingers came to my mouth as I tasted myself from him. “Taste that? So sweet I could drizzle you on my breakfast.” Draco breathed.

He quickly pulled himself out, easing his tip into me before harshly grabbing my hips and thrusting into me. “You always wanted this, didn’t you?” He moaned into my ear. “Wanted my cum inside you, no one else’s.”

“Yes.” I agreed, throwing my head back against his shoulder as he kissed over my neck.

“No muggle could make you feel this good.” He promised. “No muggle could make you cum on his cock the way I do.”

“No, only you.” I agreed, my hand gripping his hair tightly as he moaned again.

“Fuck, I wanna see you filled with my cum.” He confessed. “I wanna see you carrying my child, knowing that it was my clean cum that got you pregnant.”

“Ah, fuck!” I wailed out, jumping as his hand came to cover my mouth.

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Your daddy has high hopes of you fucking some muggle, how disappointed he’d be knowing his little girl is getting pregnant from me.” He sneered.

I moaned into his hand. His arm circled around and began to rub small but harsh circles into my clit, groaning as I clenched around him. “You gonna come, Sweet Thing?”

I nodded frantically. “Good, cum for me.” My moans were muffled by his hand as I clamped around him, my pussy spasming as he forced an orgasm from me.

His hand dropped from my mouth as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body flush against his. “Cum inside me.” I whined out. “Please.”

“Fucking hell, gonna paint your womb with my cum.” He promised as his hips stilled and hot ropes of cum came inside me. “Fuck.” He leant against me, kissing over my cheek and neck.

He pulled out, watching as the cum leaked from me. He sighed and pulled my skirt down, turning me around. His hand softly cupped my face as he leant in and sweetly kissed me.

“Don’t clean yourself up,” he smirked. “I want to know you’re walking around with my cum inside you.”

I bit my lip and nodded. “We should get back.”

His hand gripped mine as he led the way back to the dining room, letting go of me once he heard our fathers yelling at each other. We entered the room and my mother quickly pulled me away from Draco.

“Y/N, thank god, we’re leaving.” She spat at Narcissa.

“And another thing, language like mudblood and pure-blood are so outed it’s laughable!” My father yelled.

“At least I don’t want my off-spring mating with dirty genes.” Lucius snapped.

“The only dirty genes are yours.” My father retorted. “Thank you for dinner, the chicken was overcooked.”

My father grabbed mine and my mother’s hand, pulling us past Draco who simply smirked and winked at me.

Once in the carriage my father ranted and raved about the idiocy he’d just been in the presence of, my mother quickly making her distain for them known.

“What about the boy?” My father asked. “Was he any better?”

I shook my head. “Baffoon.” I said.

That wasn’t totally true.

#draco #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #malfoy #tom felton fluff #tom felton angst #tom felton smut #tom felton #harry potter #harry potter fanfic

[hwangsies]

hello, hello, first things first, hope you're having a good day! can i please request fem reader and minho agreeing on cockwarming only but she got really horny and waited for him to fall asleep before doing it, but ofc he woke up and ended up overstimulating her instead as a punishment-

hii, tysm for requesting! i hope u had a good day as well💓

[6:54 pm]

lee minho x female reader smut

warnings: established relationship, partly clothed sex, dom!minho, cockwarming, oral (m recieving), fingering, slight somnophilia (not stated but consensual ofc), spit (im sorry skjsjekd), a little choking, minho calls reader a slut like 2 times, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

wc: 1.6 k

enjoy <3

-

"fuck-no no go back to the base" you roll your eyes at minhos yells into his headset.

His fingers fly over the controller as he digs his teeth into his lower lip in concentration.

You love that he's finally able to relax a little and play his game but you'd so much rather have those fingers inside of you.

"chan-hyung go back-go back" he orders as he shoots at something on the screen, you cant be bothered to fully understand what the goal of that game is.

You are way too annoyed at the fact that he had declared his 'last round' four times already without even looking back at you.

Sighing you get up to get a glass of water, when you come back he's still sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the screen.

You lean agaist the doorframe, cross your arms over your chest and sigh again, a little more dramatic; frowning when he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence.

So, you sigh even louder, one more time.

His eyes flicker up at you before he pulls his headset back from one ear, releasing the abused flesh of his lip from inbetween his teeth.

"whats up, baby" he asks, muting his microphone before looking back at the screen shortly.

"I miss you" you pout "and you said you were almost done like an hour ago"

He smiles softly and holds out his hand, speaking when you slide yours into his.

"i'm sorry, i promise im done after this round" he rubs his thumb over your hand.

You whine as your eyes fall on his lap, on those muscular thighs that even make the baggy grey sweatpants he's wearing look tight when he's sitting. Apparently you arent very cool about it because your boyfriend catches on to what you're thinking almost immediately.

Grinning, he pulls you closer by your hand before pressing a kiss to the back of it. "take off your panties" he nods at your skirt.

"already did, like two hours ago" you breathe out, feigning annoyance at which he chuckles.

"alright then, if you get me hard you can sit on my cock until i'm done" he grins up at you, chuckling once again when you drop to your knees. His hands return to his controller after he unmutes himself, meanwhile you start squeezing him through his sweatpants.

"yea, sorry guys im back" minho mumbles into the headset, you frown because you want his attention, but knowing your boyfriend, he wont give it up without a fight.

Pulling down his pants and boxers far enough to take out his half hard length, you waste no time getting your mouth on him.

"guys, left-left-left" he chants into his mic.

You feel his cock twitch when you take him deep and massage his balls, peering up at him through your lashes, you are disappointed to see he's still only watching the screen. Breathing in deeply through your nose, you go even deeper and swallow around his tip as he starts his sentence.

"guys, dont- oh fuck" his voice cracks and he finally looks down at you, muting himself before pulling you away.

"I said get me hard, not off, you little slut" he sneers as you lick your lower lip.

"sorry" you grin, which he reciprocates "get up" he orders.

When you do, he trails his fingers along your inner thigh, hissing when he feels how wet you are. You moan when he pumps one finger into you, holding onto his shoulder as he takes his other hand and guides you to hover his lap.

Retreating his finger, he rubs a few circles over your clit for good measure at which you whimper.

"okay, come here" he guides you to hover over his lap before spreading your juices over his cock and aligning it with your entrance, pushing inside slowly.

You moan out minhos name at the stretch, he breathes out shakily as well before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"doing good, baby" another kiss to your cheek "now be a good girl and stay still, alright?" You nod and tuck your face into the crook of his neck before looping your arms around him as well.

You can hear the clickling sound of his controller and the faint voices of chan, jeongin and whoever else he's playing with.

He makes an effort not to yell into your ear when he talks to them, so very soon you find your feeling of neediness getting overpowered by drowsiness. His bodywarmth and cologne affectively lulling you to sleep.

-

You dont know how long you were out but when you wake up minho is still underneath you, but now propped up against the headrest of the bed.

Blinking confusedly, you lift your head, which was still still positioned on his shoulder and look around.

The tv is off and it had gotten dark outside, your attention however quickly shifts to the throbbing of your core, where your boyfiend is still buried in to the hilt. Said boyfriend is peacefully asleep, lips pouted and cheeks slightly flushed.

You sit up, moaning when his cock brushes against your g-spot. You bite your lip, knowing full well what would happen if you were to act on your thoughts.

So thats exactly what you do; slowly you roll your hips into his and prop your hand on the headrest. You feel your walls tighten when you lift yourself up and push down again.

Whimpering, you reach down and rub circles into your clit. Your head rolls back when you feel your high bubble up in your abdomen, tearing a moan from your throat.

Suddenly , warm hands gripping your hips make you jump.

"didnt mean to interrupt you baby" minho grins up at you tiredly.

“baby-i” your movements still with his hands squeezing at your flesh.

“you what?” he taunts “thought you could get yourself off real sneakily?”

“no-i” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrasment “i wouldve woken you up- just...” you absently tug at his shirt.

“just what?” minho sits up, grinning and supporting your back to keep you from tipping over.

“you always edge me and i just want to cum” you say sheepishly now that his face is only a few inches away from yours.

“aw, well i dont like how that makes me sound” he pouts sarcastically “lets make your wish come true then,yea?” he leans back again, tucking one hand under his head cockily.

“fuck yourself, cmon” he bites his lip, wating for you to oblige.

You grin and start rolling your hips again “wait!” minho yelps, making you flinch.

“sorry” he giggles, rubbing your thigh “take off your shirt”

You scoff and shake your head incredulously before pulling your shirt over your head and freeing your tits for your boyfriend to instantly love on.

Not long after rocking your pelvis into his, you feel your orgasm creeping up on you again. Minho being no stranger to your body and its signals, kitten licks his thumb and brings it underneath your skirt to your clit.

You moan as you lean forwards to get better levarage, your boyfriend latching his lips onto one of your nipples.

"fuck-" you cry out when he increases the preassure of his thumb on your bundle of nerves and raises his hips to meet yours with every roll. Your orgasm makes your toes curl as it rushes through your veins, your body trembling as you collapse into minhos hold.

You pant obscene things as he rocks you through it, flipping the both of you over shortly after. “what-oh-fuck” you squeal but he thrusts back into you, flipping up your skirt to reveal your how tigth your dripping walls are hugging him.

“fuck” minho groans at the sight, stabilizing your hips before slowly letting a glob of spit descend from his pout to where your bodies join. You whimper, your hips stuttering when he smears it over your folds before bottoming out and picking up his pace.

“how’s that hm?” he grits through his teeth, hand anchoring to your neck when you moan in response.

“s- good” you whine, crying out a second later when he brings his thumb to your clit again to rub at it vigorously.

“you wanted to cum, so cum again like the little slut you are” he sneers “cmon baby, do it”  And you do, pulling at the sheets as you cry out for him in bliss.

The overstimulation kicks in and you squirm, pressing against his hand to make him stop. But he just pulls out and shoves two of his fingers into you, curling them upwards and pumping furiously as his other hand squeezes at your neck.

“fuck! minho-i cant” the sensitivity is almost too much and you feel tears pricking at your eyes as you yell out for your boyfriend.

“this is what you wanted isnt it?” he tauts, grin evident in his voice.

“fuck!” your back arches of the mattress as a guttoral groan tears from your throat and you cum again, less than a minute after your previous high.

For a few seconds you only hear white noise and your heartbeat as he rides out your orgasm.

“good fucking girl” he chuckles mischievously as he watches your chest heave and your swollen pussy flutter when he takes out his fingers, smearing your cum on his cock before he starts pumping himself.

You open your eyes to see him jerk himself off over you, tiredly you raise your hand to fondle his balls, making him roll his head back and groan.

His throat shining with a sheen of sweat as his adams apple bops with each breath. Locking eyes again, he spills his seed on your tummy with a moan and a shudder.

#ajwritesrequests #kpopscape #skz #stray kids #lee minho #lee know #lee know smut #minho smut #lee know drabble #minho drabbles #skz minho smut #skz timestamps #skz lee know smut #askbox:minho

[intheticklecloset]

What You Miss (Dr. Stone)

Summary: Gen decides it's high time Senku got something that he misses from the old world to repay him for all he's done.

A/N: I AM SO EXITED TO SHARE THIS ONE!!! My first Dr. Stone fic!! I love this anime so freaking much and I can't wait to write a whole bunch more for it! For now, please enjoy my full-length fic debut into this fandom! Enjoy!!

Word Count: 2,013

@skribblz for convincing me to give Dr. Stone another try and for all of the amazing fanart she's drawn for me recently!

@giggly-squiggily for the major Dr. Stone writing inspiration! Check out her stories; they're amazing!

~~~

“What is it, Senku?”

The question surprised the scientist, who turned just as Gen came up on his left, watching him with that soft smile and mischievous glint in his eyes. Senku quirked a brow at him. “Nothing. I’m just resting my shoulders. They hurt sometimes when I work for too long.”

“No, I mean…what is it you miss?”

Senku stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

Gen looked out over the water and the village. “You’ve worked so hard to bring back so many things that modern society has lost. You make cola for me, and all those crazy things that don’t seem possible for the villagers. But you never make anything for yourself. Isn’t there anything you miss?”

“Heh.” Senku rolled his left shoulder with a slight groan. “I don’t care one millimeter about material things I’ve lost. My only concern is bringing back what humanity worked so long to create to make a better world.”

“Then what about non-material things?” Gen asked, eyeing him closely, curious. “Your father?”

The words stopped Senku for only a moment before he switched to rolling his right shoulder. “My father is long gone. Nothing to be done about that now.”

“Come on. Surely there’s something you really wish could be brought back from the old world. What is it?”

Gen was persistent, Senku had to give him that much. He paused for a long moment, deciding to consider the question seriously. Finally he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Honestly, Gen? I miss laughing.”

That certainly wasn’t what the mentalist had expected. “Laughing? But you laugh all the time.”

“No, you know what I mean.” Senku’s eyes softened as he looked out at their view of the village. “I mean watching a video that’s so absurd you can’t help but bust a gut. Watching your classmates make simple chemistry mistakes that literally blow up in their faces. Humor. Real laughter. I don’t get much of that out here.” Senku smirked. “I don’t remember the last time I really laughed at something. I guess that’s what I miss, if I had to choose.”

Before Gen could reply, there was a loud crashing sound from somewhere behind them, causing them both to turn and look just as a cloud of dust rose up in the air behind the observatory.

“Well,” Senku said, turning to walk towards the ruckus, “I’d better go see what that was.”

But Gen stayed put, watching him, already thinking of a way to pay Senku back for everything he’d done for this stone world.

*

Some weeks passed, and Senku forgot all about his conversation with Gen, losing himself in his work as he always did. He didn’t notice the subtle looks he got from the mentalist every now and then, or if he did, he didn’t let on. He simply went on as usual, working and directing and gathering materials for the next project to tackle.

Then, one night – when he was particularly exhausted and ready for bed – Gen pulled him aside.

“Senku,” the mentalist said, “I have something for you.”

“Okay?” Senku yawned. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, so I need you to put this on.” Gen held up a strip of cloth that was meant to serve as a blindfold.

Senku hesitated. “The last time I wore one of these, you surprised me with an observatory for my birthday. I hope you haven’t done anything quite that extravagant again.”

Gen put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Extravagant? Me? I would never.” Then he smirked and held it out. “Just take it. Trust me.”

The scientist waited only another moment or two before taking the offered cloth and tying it over his eyes. “At least I can put it on myself this time.”

“It will make the surprise that much more surprising.” Gen took his arm and started walking. “This way.”

Senku could tell from where they’d begun their path and the trajectory of Gen’s leadership that they were headed to his lab, though for what he couldn’t begin to guess. It didn’t help that he was tired. All he wanted to do was crawl under his covers and pass out for the night. But he didn’t resist as his friend helped him find the table and sit on it.

“Now, keep that blindfold on for just a bit longer, Senku,” Gen instructed. “Positions, everyone.”

So there were others here. Senku could hear the shuffling of a few pairs of feet – probably four or five, probably consisting at least of Chrome and Kohaku. He couldn’t tell who else. Then – without warning – he felt hands grabbing his arms and legs, gently but firmly pulling him down so he was lying on his own lab table, his wrists and ankles pinned to each of the corners.

Suddenly he grew nervous. “Whoa, wait a minute here. What’s…?”

Then he felt another set of fingers sporadically poking up and down his ribs, making him gasp aloud. He tried to curl up, but his other friends (presumably) were holding him too firmly for him to do more than squirm. He gritted his teeth against the traitorous snickers that threatened to bubble up out of him.

“W-What is g-going on here?” he managed, sounding strained even to his own ears. “Guys—”

“You said you missed laughing, Senku,” Gen said sweetly from somewhere above him seconds before he felt a weight settle on his hips, further trapping him. “We’ve all decided this is the best way to go about helping you with that.”

“This w-wasn’t what…I’d had in mihihind.” Senku pressed his lips together, really struggling to hold off his mirth against the light tracing along his sides. He breathed rapidly through his nose as though hyperventilating, limbs shaking.

“Ugh, you are so stubborn.” Gen huffed. “Time for some drastic measures, everyone. You know what to do.”

Suddenly there were fingers everywhere – from his underarms to his stomach to his knees and even his feet – and Senku gave up the fight. What was the point? They already knew.

“Nohohohohoho,” he giggled helplessly, submitting to their hold but squirming all the same. “Guys, come ohohohohon…”

There was a huge smile in Gen’s voice. “There we go! Just took a little coaxing, didn’t it, Senku? Now, to really get you laughing.”

“Thihihihis is chihihihildish,” Senku protested, jerking when Gen squeezed his sides harder. An actual laugh slipped out of him, and the knowing hum his friend gave him in response sent a shiver up his spine. He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. Was he blushing? Senku didn’t blush. Another squeeze drew another bark of laughter, followed by a warning and pleading, “Gehehehehehen!”

“Just testing~” Gen giggled. To whomever held his arms he said, “Try some spots up there. See how he reacts.”

“W-Whahahahat is this?” Senku sputtered, grinning despite himself. “An expeheheheriment?”

“Of course! A ticklish experiment, to learn where our dear Senku is most sensitive. That way we can make you laugh all the time!”

“Thihihis ihihisn’t what I meheheheant and you knohohohow it.” Senku tried pulling his arms down to protect his armpits, but whoever had him held him tight, not allowing him any leeway.

“I know. You two at the bottom, try some spots. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a good one right here…” He squeezed Senku’s sides again, earning a surprised yelp and even more helpless giggles. “…but we’d better cover all our bases.”

Someone squeezed at one knee and someone scribbled under the other knee; Senku could tell it was two people because of the difference in hand size and roughness.

“Guys, quihihihihihit teheheheasing me,” Senku grumbled as best he could through his snickering.

“Oh? It is rather surprising you haven’t asked us to stop yet,” Gen observed, kneading his thumbs into Senku’s ribs. “Is it because you like this?”

“I alreheheheady said I m-mihihihihiss lahahahauging. And you seheheheheem determined to p-puhuhuhuhull it out of me by fohohohohorce, so why wahahahaste time? I’m tired. Just gehehehehet it over wihihihihihith.”

Gen chuckled. “As you wish, Senku~”

Some silent cue must have been given, because the next thing Senku knew there were hands all over his most sensitive spots, digging harder than before, drilling with purpose, and finally he lost the battle against his own laughter. It burst out of him in a surprised cry, followed by long strings of genuine cackling.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! WAHAHAHAHAHAIT, NO!!” He squealed, jerking the hardest when his sides became the focus of their ruthless tickling, unable to see any of them to know who exactly was seeing him so helpless like this. Not that he really cared. It was no secret he wasn’t the strongest person among the villagers. Even some of the children were stronger than he was. Still, he doubted any of them had been subjected to this kind of childish play for so long before.

“There you go!” Gen encouraged, and for the first time the scientist could hear some giggling that undoubtedly belonged to Ginro, followed quickly by a shushing Kinro. So now he at least knew who his attackers were. “Doesn’t it feel good to laugh again? You said you missed this, didn’t you?”

“GEN!!” Senku cried, going steadily crazy from how defenseless he was against the purposeful squeezing of his sides. He even snorted once in his hysterics. “GEN, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“But you like this, don’t you?” Gen teased, messing with him just because he could now. “You didn’t say stop until all of us were tickling you. Can’t take so many people going for your sensitive spots at once?”

Senku had to admit, the laughing was making him feel tons lighter than he’d felt since waking up in this stone world. For once it felt good to not be in control, to actually laugh rather than just smirk or chuckle at something. He’d really, truly missed this simple pleasure.

Still, one more squeeze along his sides broke any further resistance down. He couldn’t take much more of this. “STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, GEN!! I’VE HAHAHAD ENOHOHOHOUGH!!”

Gen hummed thoughtfully, then released him. “All right. I believe you.” Moments later the other hands released him as well, and Senku went limp on the table, gasping for breath and still giggling lightly, shakily reaching up to pull his blindfold from his eyes.

Thankfully it was after dark, so he wasn’t blinded by the sun upon being able to see again. Still, he could see the beaming smiles of four of his friends, whom he had all guessed correctly: Chrome, Kohaku, Ginro, and Kinro. And of course, Gen at the head of the pack smiling at him as he climbed off and stood nearby with the others.

“All of you,” Senku managed, “are pulling double duty tomorrow for this.”

“What?” Ginro whined. “That’s not fair! It was Gen’s idea—”

Kinro shushed him quickly. “Enough, Ginro. I’m pretty sure he was joking.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Senku groaned as he sat up but couldn’t wipe the smile from his face no matter how hard he tried to. “Don’t think you suddenly have permission to tickle me all the time. This was a one-time deal, got it?”

Chrome grinned. “You got it, Senku.”

“But it was great to hear you really laughing for once,” Kohaku added, smiling and winking at him.

The others agreed before the scientist waved them off, and all of them left beaming and chatting with one another as they retired to bed for the night.

Senku finally got his own smile under control and leveled a stare at Gen, who looked back at him innocently.

“Are you mad at me now?” the mentalist asked breezily, though a hint of nervousness underlined his tone.

Senku watched him for a long moment, then smiled again. “Nah.” He hopped off the table, unsteady on his feet for only a moment before he straightened with the help of both the furniture and his friend. Then he, too, left the lab, calling a soft, “night, Gen,” over his shoulder as he went.

Gen swelled with pride, vowing to make sure Senku never missed laughing again.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #dr. stone #dr stone #senku #gen #sengen #chrome #kohaku #ginro #kinro #stone world #surprise #wholesome #playful #tickling #ticklish #tickle

[feral-dumbass]

Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Steve Rogers / Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is on the phone with Steve when he decides he has to have you now. 

Includes: Exhibitionism (???), Polyamorous relationship, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Overstimulation, Dom/ Sub undertones, Talk of oral, The stealth suit

Words: 2,008 

A/N: Hi! The only thing I love more than super soldiers is women in rock, so let’s pretend to be surprised that this my second fic with title credit to The Runaways. As always tagging the homies @babybluestan​ @gagmebucky​ @heresyoursnackdumbass​

LMK if you guys still want a tag list!

Masterlist

“Mhmm… Pfft, everyone knows to ambush at night. Where did these rookies come from?” Bucky speaks to Steve on the phone as he looks over reports. Steve was currently ranting about how quickly the mission with new recruits went south. Bucky wanted to be a good boyfriend and help Steve out as the reports started piling up. Man, is Bucky happy he’s helping Steve. Steve is making the recruits sound like dumbasses. It’s a shame Bucky will have to put them through the wringer come Monday. 

Bucky has had to reread Clint’s shitty sentence twice while Steve rants. He can feel his brain cells deteriorating as he tries to read the report. He’s passed multiple stick figure drawings and that was just the first page. 

Commotion from you allows Bucky to move his eyes away from the eyesore. You take a break from typing away on your computer to scratch your bare thigh. Even after you hand leaves the spot where the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt is touching your thigh, his eyes are boring holes into it. You’re sitting sideways in Steve’s reading chair, bare legs thrown over the armrest. Your soft, smooth legs shine under the light and Bucky’s hand twitches. He can practically feel your thighs underneath his hands as he spreads your legs. Not like he wasn’t just between them like an hour ago. 

Memories of you coming on his cock fill his brain as blood rushes south. He moves up to your face. You’re biting your lip in concentration as you type out a scientific article. They’re still slightly swollen from Bucky. It’s not Bucky’s fault you’re a really good kisser and he just wants to kiss you 24/7.

With the sight of the wide collar of his shirt displaying previous hickeys and little bit of your cleavage, Bucky’s ripping out a page of Clint’s report. It was shitty. Steve was gonna make him redo it anyways. He balls up the piece of paper and throws it at you as Steve continues his star spangled rant in his ear.

Everyone knows Bucky’s aim is good. He hits you right on your forehead with it. You turn to glare at him. As you blink slowly at him, he points down to his crotch. You scoff and laugh at him. Bucky moves and cups the phone away from his mouth. 

“Come hop on this dick.” Maybe Bucky said something wrong because you go back to your computer. “Please.” He tries giving his best puppy dog look, wide eyes and mouth turned into a pout. If it works on Steve, it should work on you.

“Oh my god,” Bucky‘s heart flutters as you laugh when you speak. ”I’m saving my work. Give me a minute.” 

“What was that, Buck?” Steve has stopped his rant to ask Bucky a question.

“Oh, she was just checking on the spelling of adamantium.” Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off you as you shut your laptop and stand up, putting the computer in your seat. You stretch out your arms and your underwear is on full display for him. 

“Oh,” is all Steve says before going back to his rant. You walk over to Bucky, hips swaying side to side. Bucky is hastily putting Steve on speaker and setting his phone on the mahogany desk. He takes your hand and pulls you on his lap. You throw your arms over Bucky’s shoulders and give him a sweet kiss as he rubs your back. His hand is slowly pushing up the shirt up your back so he can make more skin contact. 

“He’s really going on a rant, isn’t he?” You speak lowly and glance back at Bucky’s phone. Bucky takes your chin between his fingers and turns you to face him. 

“Ignore him.” Bucky kisses you senselessly. It doesn’t take him long to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping out to invade your mouth. You moan as his other hand moves to play with the hem of your panties. 

“You guys know I can hear you, right? You’re making out as I tell Bucky about the worst few days of my life. Unbelievable.” Bucky breaks away from you to reply and you trail after his lips. He smirks as he talks.

“ ‘M sorry, Stevie. You should see our sweet girl right now. Been walking around in my t-shirt with no pants for the past hour. All her hickeys are on display. She looks extra kissable too. Bet she’s even already wet, again, too. Are you wet for me, sweetheart?” Your eyes are stuck on Bucky’s lips, watching the way they move as he speaks. You nod. “Gotta speak up, babe. Stevie’s gotta hear too.”

“Y-yes. I’m wet. I think Bucky should feel for himself, though.” You grab his metal hand and slide it into the front of your underwear. Bucky reaches further down to where you ache for him.

At the feel of your sopping folds as he slides his fingers through the mess between your thighs, Bucky groans out. “She definitely wasn’t lying.” Bucky kneads your sex harder and your breath hitches. 

Steve inhales and exhales loudly through the phone. “I hate you. I hate you both. You’re killing me.” 

“What do you say doll? Want to kill him even more and let him hear me wreck that sweet pussy even more?” Butterflies rumble in your stomach. Even if Bucky wasn’t going to fuck yoou, you were going to ride his thigh. You find yourself nodding your head adamantly through the pleasure as Steve speaks. 

“I can’t believe I’m asking, but even more? What do you mean?” Steve’s brain is definitely fried from dealing with everyone’s bullshit.

“It was rare for me to be out of this tight, little cunt. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” As Bucky talks, he’s sliding his two of his fingers inside of you and finding those sensitive spots inside of you. 

“B-Bucky, please.” You whimper as he pumps his fingers expertly. Bucky isn’t lying. He’s fucked you until you’re overworked and sensitive. It doesn’t take much to start to feel the rise of your orgasm.  

“What’s wrong, babygirl?” His metal thumb circles your clit. “You gonna be a good slut and cum for me and Steve? You know what? Why don’t you ask Steve if you can cum?” 

“Steve, please. P-please, can I come?” No hesitation as you start to beg. 

“Let her cum, Buck.” Bucky doubles his effort, pumping his fingers at faster speed. You hold onto his bicep for dear life, nails digging crescent shapes as your muscles tense. You reach your peak.

“FUCK!” You curse in between breathy moans. Bucky lets you ride out your orgasm before he slips his fingers out of you and into his mouth. He takes his fingers out with a pop, loud enough for Steve to hear. 

“How does she taste?”

“Like fucking candy.” Steve is groaning and a door slamming in the background breaks the trance between you and Bucky. 

“I hope you guys are happy. I’m gonna jerk it out in a supply closet like some kind of creep because you two couldn’t wait twenty fucking minutes to stop fucking like bunnies.” 

“Well, you head the Captain. Let’s give him something good to listen to. C’mon and fuck me.” You look at Bucky expectantingly. 

“Fuck.” Bucky’s groaning as he sets you on your feet. Before you can blink, he’s yanking his shirt off you and standing up to his full height. You only have a few seconds to look up at him before he’s turning you around and picking you up by the waist to roughly place on Steve’s desk. Your feet barely graze the ground with your breasts against the cool wood. Bucky doesn’t make you wait for long. Before you can process it, Bucky is moving your underwear to the side and  sliding his cock into you.  You’ve had his cock enough this weekend. He doesn’t let you adjust just starts off at a brutal pace that’s already making you see stars. The smacking of your  skin echoes through the room. You have no doubt it carries through the phone.

“S-steve.” 

He moans at how wrecked you sound already. “Yeah, baby? Bucky making you feel good?”

“So good.” You whimper. Your back arches as you scramble to get a hold of the smooth surface of the desk. Bucky notices and takes your hand down to reach his thigh. Your fingers dig into his skin. You can feel his muscles contract underneath your fingertips as he thrusts into you. “So fucking good, Bucky.” Even with your ears ringing, you’re able to hear the tell tale signs of skin slapping skin on Steve’s line. Bucky is too focused on your praise to make fun of him for it, thrusting into you with vigor. He tugs on your hips so you’re hanging more off the table. You whimper out as Bucky reaches around you for your clit, rubbing in fast circles.

“Jesus Christ, you sound so pretty. I wish I was there.” 

“What would you do, Stevie?” Bucky pants as he speaks. “It sure would be great if you were here to take her mouth. The wet heat of her mouth is almost as good as her pussy. She can barely deepthroat your massive cock. It’d be a great show.” Bucky’s palm smacks down on your ass cheek. It’s almost as if he knows your mouth is watering at the thought. 

“Bucky!” Your hips buck at the stinging feeling  of metal.

“You’re the biggest fucking tease, Bucky. I should put your mouth to good use.” Bucky’s thrusts falter for a few seconds before his pace picks back up. Well, Bucky definitely wants his mouth used like a whore and you can’t really blame him. There’s something special in letting Captain America facefuck you, firm grip on the back of your head as he makes you take as much of his length as you can. 

The thought has your orgasm approaching quicker than you thought as drool starts to pool on the desk. The sight of your muscles tensing and the feel of your nails digging harder into his thigh has Bucky doubling his efforts, angling to hit your sensitive depths with every thrust and rubbing your clit even faster. 

“Cum for us. Remind Steve how pretty you sound when you cum.”  

“Cum for us, angel. Be a good girl.” 

With the sound of both of your boyfriends begging in low, deep voices for release, your orgasm overcomes you rather quickly. Your breathy moans fill the room as you pant. Your legs are so shaking so hard, Bucky has to make sure you don’t fall off the desk as he fucks you through your orgasm. You can barely make out Steve groaning into the phone as you moan out his name. 

When you manage to catch your breath over the oversensitivity Bucky is putting you through, a mischievous grin spreads across your face as he thrusts get sloppy. “You close, Bucky? I think you should ask Stevie if you can cum.”

“You heard the woman.” 

“Steve, I swear to fucking God if you don’t let me cum-”

“Nicer.” 

“Please, can I cum?”

“I think you know what I’m looking for, Bucky.”

“Please, can I cum, sir?” 

“See that wasn’t so hard. Go ahead.” With his permission, you can feel Bucky spill his warmth as you whimper. His groaning sends shivers down your spine as he roughly yanks your hips to meet cock in the last few thrusts. 

Everyone takes a few minutes to catch their breath before Steve is speaking out again. “The weirdest fucking part about this is that I haven’t had time to switch out of my stealth suit.” A moan slips out of your mouth on accident as you clench down on Bucky. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Did she just-”

“Yep.” 

“I want you both naked waiting for me on our bed. 15 minutes. Try not to fuck each others brains by then.” Steve abruptly hangs up after that leaving you and Bucky to scramble to the bedroom. 

#stand alone or part 1 out of 2? Im not sure yet #I do love me some poly relationships tho #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky/ reader #bucky barnes/ reader #bucky barnes/ you #bucky barnes/y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers/you #steve rogers/ reader #steve rogers/ y/n #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers/ you/ bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #steve rogers/ y/n/ bucky barnes

[alexisqueen-137]

How could I (D.M x Reader)

Hey guys, so this is my first fic that I am posting, I really hope you enjoy this, also, requests open! feedback appreciated whether good or bad, and i apologize if some bit’s in the story are a wee bit cringy... and btw the angst will be much more in the next parts! (btw I don’t write smut AT ALL)

warnings: angst, reader almost get’s raped, mentions of self-harm, mentions of abuse

Word count: 1k+

summary: Pansy uses the unforgivable torture curse on y/n, and after that y/n changes turning into a total badass, catching draco’s eye even more than before...fluff if u squint

The leaves on the withering grass indicated that finally, most finally, Autumn had come once more on the beautiful castle.

Students rushed from classes to see the wonderful sight awaiting them at the meadow. The biting breeze didn’t change their stubborn minds, infact, it most probably encouraged them to sit around the black lake, watching the giant squid with far-away looks in their eyes and pumpkin juice in their hands. 

However, probably the only soul still inside of the towering castle walls was Y/N L/N. The crumpling, aching feeling inside of your chest was only growing and though you wished to let it all out, you weren't able to. Your burning tears were held inside of you too  scared to fall and be for once free. 

Staggering to the dungeons, y/n couldn’t breathe normally or walk properly because of the pain that wracked her body even until now.

And finally have you reached your dorm, you shut the door and made sure no one was there, only to fall on your knees and let all the tears you had been holding slip, slip onto your forest green carpet and dampen it.

It was a habit, a habit of yours to cry as silently as possible, because you were still haunted by your memories as a child being beaten up by your drunken father.

All the walls that you had built inside of you were now by this point fragile; cracking; falling apart...

y/n was not a foolish sensitive girl, oh you were much more. You were so strong to have gone through all of the trials and mishaps that would have destroyed most people. Even though, it still broke you...You were a human being too, in the end. These things you went through were the reason you made those thin scars on your arms and thighs with the silver knife you inherited...it soothes you, this act. It reminds you that you are a normal person who can still feel pain.

However, what happened to you this time must be the end of it all.

It all started when you entered your potions class which the Slytherins (such as yourself) shared with the Gryffindors. You were a bit late, which was unusual since you were one of the best students in your year. Always after Hermione Granger and before Draco Malfoy. Oh how you loathed him. He made your life hell and well...you didn’t need much of a reason to hate him.

you walked over to your seat next to Blaise Zabini, who was your best friend, since he was one of the only who didn’t mind you were a half-blood Slytherin. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley glared at you because they hate all Slytherins, albeit you never did anything to them...

you ignored them, half annoyed, half overlooking the whole situation. Professor Slughorn started explaining the properties of a well-made draught of living death as you took notes. Then Slughorn said something that caught everyone’s complete attention; he was giving away a small vial of liquid luck to whoever made the best living death potion.

Everyone started working, and you started working too, extra hard, because you reallyyyyyy needed that liquid luck. For a reason you would never admit to anyone but yourself. you wanted to give it to- yes, believe it or not- Malfoy. Not because you  liked him or something, no you hated him, it was just that he kept bragging to the Slytherins how the Dark Lord gave him a job and he was chosen for blah blah blah...And you couldn’t really let him kill himself, right?

You side glanced at Potter to see how he was doing, only to see that instead of cutting up his Sopophorous bean, he was crushing it, getting much more juice than you, you followed his lead and crushed your bean with the back of your silver knife watching the liquid ooze out of it’s shiny shell...

*after class*

 you put the golden liquid in your pocket feeling quite happy with yourself, you and Potter had made equivalently perfect draughts, earning the both of you felix felicis. 

Just as you were heading to your next class, you bumped into (rather unfortunately), no other than Pansy Parkinson, the pug-faced slut. Apperently, she made it her all time mission to annoy the fuck out of Y/N.

“Watch where your going, Bitch” She retorted. You huffed. She continued, “I don’t think you can though, not with that ugly hair covering your filthy face!”

She cackled like the whole thing was so funny. You rolled your eyes, and then cleared your throught; “Bugger off, Parkinson, I don’t need you all in my face like spot cream or something, not that you would know of it, looks like you’ve never used it your entire life!” you smirked, not caring about the consequences this would bring.

Pansy’s eyes flared with anger, she said: “Think we’re so smart, don’t we? Forgot that your superiors (she said that while gesturing at herself) could handle you without much looking at your hideous face! You are sooo unbearable! First, you steal my Dracey from me (at these words you frowned, not knowing what she meant), and now you’re acting all snotty in my face, I think, it’s time for me to TEACH.YOU.A.LESSON! (she practically screeched those words) ughhhhhh I hate you so much, L/N, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU, YOU KNOW SO, crucio!”  You gasped and before you could react an invisible force squeezed your bones and burned your skin, tugged on your flesh and stabbed you dozens of times at once; until you were screaming and wailing on the ground, writhing in agony, unable to do anything to that horrible skank, all until your vision went black and yout hit the floor, unconscious…

 *after you woke up*

 Unsure for how long you were out, you staggered up, and grimaced form the pain. All you knew that miss ruthless Pansy left you alone in the dark, cold empty hallway. All you knew was that the tears you were holding would burst soon if you don’t hurry to your dorm.

 *present*

 And now, after you had cried your heart out, you realized you didn’t just cry because of the physical pain, but from the mere thought of not being able to stand up to yourself and shoot back at the motherfucking bitch- Oh, how you promised yourself you would change that day. How you would be a new woman with a much bigger attitude, how you would take care of yourself.

 And that’s just what you did.

 *Two months later*

 You had died your hair black from the top, and silver from the bottom, keeping it long, and you always made sure your hair was always wavy, you kept worn down all the time, and it framed your face perfectly.

  Instead of the pants you used to wear, now you always wore a skirt underneath your robes, with black tights and short heels, not forgetting to add a dash of makeup. Not only have you changed your looks, but your attitude aswell. Anyone disrespects you, oh they will pay for it. Admittedly, you had to thank Parkinson for changing you like this, but you thought better than to.

You were top of your year and you helped people whenever they want. You were kind, but one hell of a badass.

However, you still thought about the day Parkinson cursed you, what had she said, I had stolen Draco from her? You didn’t understand that. You and Draco had no romantic relationship. Albeit, when you started to change, he found it better for him to be your friend. (Blaise couldn’t shut up about it, he was so relieved that both his best friends weren’t enemies anymore) After getting to know him better, you came to the conclusion that Draco wasn’t as bad as he seemed…not at all.

Yet, you still hadn’t given him the vial of liquid luck, afraid he might reject it from you.

*one day*

You took a bite from your green apple as you made your way to class, you would be 10 minutes early if you went now, but, since you had nothing else to do, you made your way into the empty hallway leading to the transfiguration classroom. you had this weird feeling that someone was watching you though...

As you were walking someone called “Hi honey”, you didn’t turn around, he was probably calling for someone else. “L/N, sweetie!” you froze. You turned around and looked at the boy behind you. “what did you just call me?” “You know what I said y/n. The boy got dangerously closer and you realized it was Theodore Nott, Slytherin. 

He came forward even closer, pushing you into a broom closet. your heart pace was by now going so fast you were sure it was about to jump out of your chest. “I know you check me out when you see me, darling. Why don’t I give you what you’ve been wanting for a long time?” “g-get off of me” was all you managed. He came closer and trailed kisses on your neck, and you yelped. And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn’t screamed, and then who knows what would have happened.

From outside, someone yelled “WHOEVER IS IN THAT CLOSET LEAVE Y/N RIGHT NOW BEFORE I HEX YOU INTO OBLIVION!” You recognized the voice as Draco’s. you couldn’t help but sigh in relief when Nott let go of you in a hurry and you watched as he scrambled out. After he went and got hit with a couple of good spells,  Draco rushed to you and got you out of the closet. Once he touched you you felt all the stress leave you, and you thanked god he came to save you.

“Are you okay? did anything happen to you? did that motherfucker hurt you? answer me, y/n!” without realizing, you’ve been holding a shaky breath. and at his questions, you covered your face with your hands and burst into tears. “H-he almost r-raped m-me..” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m here for you” he cooed. And gently ever so gently, he pulled you into his grasp, tightly wrapping his hands around you. You stiffened, but then relaxed saying: “It’s been so long since someone hugged me...I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be held...”

(part 2 coming soon!)

#draco #draco x reader #draco malfoy #enemies to lovers #romance #slytherin!reader #halfblood!reader #blaise zabini #pansy being a pug

[planetsano]

kiss and make up

summary: It's your 21st birthday and you throw a big party. The night is supposed to be filled with drinks, dancing and your favorite cake but you get into a fight with your boyfriend, Bakuguo, prompting you to make him jealous.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader, slight!todoroki x reader

warnings: alcohol, arguments, cursing, aged up

a/n: hi! this is my first time writing for this fandom. im new so pls be nice, i really hope you all like it!

"Don't fucking walk away from me, (Name)!"

Bakugou yelled behind her as she stormed out of her bedroom and back into the party. The music from downstairs suddenly flooded the room as she opened the door leaving him sitting on her bed alone with nothing but his anger and sadness bubbling inside him.

Usually (Name) was the only one who could genuinely handle Bakugou’s brass personality and slick tongue because she knew their connection was beyond surface level. But today of all days he seemed to be more irritable than usual. Making rude remarks and just generally being an asshole throughout the day up to the party. (Name) didn't think it was too crazy to pull her boyfriend to the side and ask him to be a little more nicer so she could enjoy the rest of the night but boy was she wrong when he practically blew up in her face and told her she was being too sensitive. Needless to say, Bakugou took his girlfriend’s wishes the wrong way.

(Name) stormed downstairs trying her best not to bump into any of the guests socializing with red cups in their hands, most likely filled with some form of alcoholic beverage. She could barely hear the music blaring through the house from her anger. There were only two things on her mind right now: getting drunk and having a good time. (Name) refused to let her idiot boyfriend ruin her night.

All (Name) wanted was a good time on her birthday, not just any birthday but her 21st. With the help from her friends, they planned the party for the exciting occasion and the turnout wasn't surprising, but it still shocked (Name) to see just how many of her peers wanted to celebrate her birthday with her. So many hugs, presents and happy birthday wishes warmed her heart despite Bakugou being a jerk.

She entered the kitchen while politely excusing herself through the guests to get to the island counter. Her eyes lit up at the various glass bottles in varying sizes and colors all set on the counter. She didn't know where to start.

“(Name)! I've been looking for you everywhere!” (Name) heard a happy voice behind her. She turned to see one of her good friends, Mina, standing there with a cheerful smile and open arms signaling a hug. (Name) returned the smile and hugged her friend tightly, thanking her in the ear for coming. They pulled away from the embrace but held each other's hands. Mina frowned a bit and tilted her head looking at her friend.

“What is it?” (Name) asked with a concerned voice. She thought maybe she had something on her face.

“Where's Bakugou? It's weird seeing you without him.” Mina giggled.

“He's been insufferable all day, I needed a break from him.” She answered and rolled her eyes.

As if on cue Bakugou entered the kitchen, grabbing both the girls’ attention. Mina leaned in and whispered to (Name).

“We’ll talk about this later,” She pulled away and gave her a reassuring smile. “But for now, let's party!” Mina grabbed two shot glasses from the counter.

Bakugou watched the two throw back at least 5 shots in a row of god knows what. He was beyond bitter watching his girlfriend act like he wasn't even in the room, all he could do was down a bottle of beer hoping to calm down but it didn't seem to be working. It didn't help that she looked absolutely amazing tonight either. All Bakugou wanted to do was fucking kiss her but his pride was in the way. Mina practically dragged (Name) to the crowd of people formed in the rather large living room to dance.

(Name) was now a little more than tipsy. She couldn't recall just how many shots she threw back, but the mixture of the music making its course through her body as she swayed her hips and the confidence her tiny black dress was giving her was awakening something within her. It was time for a bit of payback. She could feel Bakugou staring daggers into her ever since he came back downstairs but she pretended like he wasn't even there. Of course she was still upset but she did her best to bury her negative emotions and focus on the positive ones. But, there was always room to be petty. She knew he was watching.

(Name) smiled upon seeing a certain two toned haired boy leaning against the wall, keeping to himself and looking into the cup he held in hand. She walked up to him making sure to sway her hips a little bit more since she had an audience.

“Hey, Todoroki..” She stood in front of the taller man with an warm smile on her glossed lips.

“Happy birthday, (Name).” He gave her a small but inviting smile.

“If I didn't know any better I’d think you're running away from me.” Her voice was playful and he lightly chuckled feeling her manicured finger poke his chest.

“Never.” Todoroki replied.

“Do you like my outfit?” She asked playfully and did a little turn.

“You look very nice tonight.” He smiled once more.

From across the room Bakugou was staring daggers at the two in the middle of the crowd as he leaned against the kitchen island taking swigs of the beer clutched in his hand. He could have sworn if he held the bottle a pinch tighter, it would shatter. He had half a mind to walk right up to her and icy hot to give them a piece of his fucking mind. Who the hell does Todoroki think he is chatting up his girl? Bakugou could admit that maybe he was being a little bit of a dick today but when was he not? (Name) always sets him straight.. but it is her birthday today and all she wanted was to have fun.. He sighed as the feeling of guilt bubbled up inside him accompanied with his anger.

He watched (Name) lean to Todoroki’s ear and whisper something. Her body pressed up against Todoroki too close to comfort for Bakugou’s taste. At first Todoroki looked unsure but (Name) clasped her hands in front of her chest and pulled one of her infamous pouty faces that almost always worked on Bakugou, but he'd never admit that.

‘She only does that for me...’ Bakugou thought.

(Name) managed to get Todoroki to dance with her but he was so awkward. It was cute but she had to take matters into her own hands. She grabbed Todoroki’s wrists placing his hands on her waist as she worked and grinded her hips to the music and onto his.

Bakugou saw red. He was livid. He didn't care about who was in his way, all he cared about was stopping his girlfriend from shaking her ass on another guy. He stormed up to the two and without a word her grabbed (Name) by her hand pulling her away from Todoroki and practically dragging her outside into the cool air. Once they got far enough away from eavesdropping ears he confronted her.

“What the fuck is your problem?” His voice was full of venom as looked down at her shorter frame.

“My problem?” She asked incredulously. “My problem is you've been acting like a dickwad the entire day! Today of all days!” She poked his chest hard but it didn't do much. She wondered if he even felt it.

“So that means you can grind on icy hot in this short ass dress?!” Bakugou pulled her dress strap making the elastic snap back onto her shoulder.

“Do that again and I'll fucking strangle you.” (Name) snapped at the blonde in front of her. Bakugou couldn’t help himself anymore, he had to kiss her. She was just so hot when she snapped at him like that.

Bakugou’s large hands were placed on the sides of (Name)’s face and his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was sloppy and wet, something they both had been craving the entire night. (Name) wanted to slap herself for giving in so quickly but she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Maybe next time he tries her she'll really make him squirm. Bakugou pulled away, his hands not leaving her face. He noticed her lip gloss was gone, and probably all over his lips.

“‘m sorry.. for bein’ an asshole..” He trailed off and looked to the side with his eyebrows furrowed. A small smile grew on  (Name)’s lips.

“It’s okay, Katsuki.” Her hands found their way to his hips, gripping at the sides of his shirt. Bakugou felt a wave of relief wash over him upon hearing her words. It was quiet for a minute before he spoke up again.

“I got you somethin’..” He shifted and dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a pretty silver ring with his and hers birthstones intertwined together. He watched her eyes light up like fireworks and he presented the ring to her.

“Happy birthday, brat.” He said blandly.

“Katsuki..” (Name) couldn't stop looking at the jewelry he held between his thumb and finger, it was so pretty.

“You like it or not?” He was always so brash, she looked up at him and rolled her eyes playfully.

“Relax, I love it.” She smiled.

Bakugou slid the ring onto her finger with ease, he felt triumphant at the perfect fit.

“It's so pretty..” (Name) said. Bakugou watched her admire the gift not realizing he was smiling.

“Like you.” His words came out mindlessly and before he could process what he said (Name) was already teasing him, jumping up and down to try to give him kisses on the cheek.

“Since when were you a big softie! Come here you're so cute!”

“Shut the fuck up! Get off of me!”

#my hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #my hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader #my hero academia imagines #bakugou imagines

[theyneedtobangstahp]

Stray kids reaction to their girlfriend getting her wisdom tooth removed

This may not be realistic because I haven’t experienced this but I tried my best so I hope you appreciate it ❤️ I also really had fun writing this :>

Genre: Fluff and crack

Requested by uwu anon ❤️

` C H A N ▪

Chan would be there next to you. He knows how scared you were when you were told you needed to get your wisdom tooth removed. If he could, he would be holding your hand throughout the entire procedure, but he can’t. All he could do was sit at the reception, leg bouncing because of how nervous he was for you. After 30 minutes or more, he was called inside by the dentist. 

“She is still under medication so she might be a little loopy. Are you her boyfriend?” The dentist asks Chan. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well this is the best time to record her because she might spout out nonsense.” The dentist says while chuckling a little. “will do doc.” Chan says while shaking hands with the doctor and thanking him. He walks into your room and sees your face stuffed with cotton. 

“Hi baby, are you feeling okay?” Chan asks sitting down next to you and holding your hand. 

“Hmmmm..” 

“What baby?”

“I can’t feel my mouth... Do I still have a mouth?” You say panicking while touching your face with you free hand. 

“Yes, they’re there. If they weren’t how are you able to speak babe?” 

“Ohhhhh.... You’re right. Wait are you my boyfriend?” You ask.

“Yes baby I am. I’m also here to take us home so you can rest.”

“Woah, we live together?” You say, your eyes comically wide. Chan laughs at your reaction.

“Yes, for 2 years now actually.” He says while helping you stand up. 

“Wooahhhhhh..... That’s so cool. Like my parents approved? I didn’t have to run away or anything right? Like they know that I’m with you?” Chan laughs at your question. “Yes, they know. They are actually going to visit us today because you had your wisdom tooth removed.”

“Dang.. Thats so cool.” You say while staring off into space. Chan really wished he recorded you now.

` M I N H O ▪

I see Minho as teasing you a lot when you got your wisdom tooth removed. But he would be sweet about it. He would talk to you a lot just so he could see your confused face every time he asks a question. 

“Babe, did you know that dogs live on until 10 to 13 years?” 

“What? But thats so short. I thought dogs lived forever? Like they grow old with us?” You say as you get teary eyed. “Oh no baby don’t cry.” He says while reaching over to the passenger side of the car. “Dogs live a short life, but they live a happy life! So no need to feel sad okay?”

“They do? Thats so cute though. Can we get a dog?” You ask him. “Oh, we’ll see about that baby. It’s cause we have cats at home, and you know some of them don’t get along so well.” He says. 

“Well, how long do cats live?” You ask him.

“Like 16 years at most?” Minho answers you. “How old are our cats?” Minho looks at you disappointedly. Almost offended that you forgot about the age of your cats. “Wow, how could you y/n, their own mother, not knowing how old they are.” 

“Wait no I remember now don’t worry.” 

“So how old are they?” 

“They are new borns. Easy. They have a whole 16 years or more with us!” Minho glances at you and sees your happy face and decides not to let you know that they are not in fact new borns. The drive home was silent. When you guys got home he let you rest on the sofa while he got a new set of clothes for you. While looking for a tshirt he heard you crying really loudly. He rushes down, concerned of what happened to you. When he sees you hugging all of the 3 cats with tears streaming down your face, he was confused. 

“Why are you crying y/n?”

“You lied to me! They aren’t new borns! They’re big and fluffy!” You say while hugging them more. 

` C H A N G B I N ▪

With Changbin, I see him being really amused and really concerned. You weren’t talking nonsense after your wisdom teeth got removed, you were kinda sensitive after. 

“How was it pumpkin?” He asks while on the drive home. 

“It was great. They were talking to me a lot when they were doing it. I didn’t know how to answer though, there were a lot of things on my mouth.”

“Do you feel okay? Do you want anything?” 

“Can we get Mcdonalds? I really want to eat something right now.” You say.

“Okay we can. But you can only eat soft foods. Is ice cream okay?” 

You get teary eyed when he says that. “But, I want a burger and fries.” You say looking at him with a tear going down dramatically down your cheek. “Oh no, don’t cry pumpkin. We can order a burger in the next few days okay? You can have ice cream then I’ll cook you porridge when we get home.” 

You nod at what he says and wipe your tears. He orders ice cream and hands it to you. “What about you? Aren’t you going to eat?” 

“I’m good pumpkin. Enjoy your ice cream, okay?” He says and continues driving home. You look at him then at the ice cream. You take a scoop then put it near his mouth. 

“here, share with me please.” You say as you put the spoon closer to his mouth. “I’m okay baby. You eat it okay?” He says refusing your scoop of ice cream. 

You get teary eyed again. “Why don’t you want ice cream? Ice cream is the best.” Two tears roll down your face.”Okay, okay. If I eat the ice cream will you stop crying?” 

“Yes!” You say smiling at him and put the spoon near his mouth again. 

` H Y U N J I N ▪

Hyunjin would be really caring towards you. Would also definitely tease and record you because you were just so cute. Like yeah you were kinda acting high, but he found it really cute because while you guys were in the car, you were touching everything like it was your first time seeing it. So when you guys got home he practically dragged you to the bedroom because you had the attention span of a goldfish today.

“Okay stay on the bed. I’ll go get you yoghurt or something because the dentist says you can only eat soft foods.” He stands up then leaves the room, he hears shuffling when he was going to close the door so he peeks inside. You were trying to remove the blanket from your legs, them getting tangled more because of how you were trying to remove them. He came in again. 

“What did I tell you y/n?” You stop what you were doing and sit up straight. 

“You told me you were going to get food.” 

“Before that.” 

“Oh. Uhm, Wait I know this.” You say thinking really hard. 

“I told you-” 

“No! Don’t tell me! It’s on the tip of my tongue. It, it was, to stay on the bed!” 

“Okay good and what were you doing?” 

“I was getting the blanket off me because it was hot.” You say while pouting at him. “I wasn’t getting off the bed. I promise!” You say while making a cross on your heart. 

“Okay I believe you. Now, I’ll get your yoghurt. Stay on the bed.” 

5 minutes later Hyunjin returns and sees an open purse and you putting lipstick on your cheeks. 

“y/n! I told you to stay put!” 

“You told me to stay on the bed! I’m still on the bed!”

` J I S U N G ▪

Jisung would also tease you a lot. Almost like Minho. He was very curious to how you would react to all the nonsense he says and he would be very amused as to also how you answer with nonsense. He would also be the one to record you. Just so he could make fun of you after.

“You know when we came here I was really nervous.” You say to him.

“Yeah I know sweetie, you were holding my hand so tight while we were on the parking lot.” He says while pressing record on his phone.

“But then they started doing it. And, and I didn’t even feel anything! It was like I was just there , you know?” You say looking at him. “I think I fell asleep when they started. All I remember is seeing Shrek sat on that chair.” You point over to a table. “And then he was waving at me then when I blinked you were standing where he was!” 

He was laughing so hard now with what you were saying. Then it dawned on him.

“Wait, did you just indirectly say I looked like Shrek? I was the one sitting on the chair next to the table.” He says. 

“No, no. The one I saw was Shrek. Not you.” You pause then your eyes get wide. “Woah he’s back! Hi Shrek!” You say while waving and smiling at the door. Oh he was totally sending this to the boys and your parents when you got home. 

` F E L I X ▪

Felix would be so cute :< Always tending to what you need or being concerned if something hurt. He would pay attention to you the whole time you were recovering. 

“What do you need y/n? Does it hurt a lot? Do you feel weird?” He continues asking you all of these things. And you are just there, staring at him. “Why are you looking at me like that? He asks, very confused. 

“Woah you have stars on your cheeks.” You say while poking his freckles. He chuckles at you and lets you poke all his freckles. “How.. How did these get here?” You ask while looking at his freckles in amazement.

“And you have the whole galaxy in your eyes babe. I could stare into them all day.” He says. You don’t mind what he says cause you were kinda high as kite right now. 

“Are you done babe?” 

“No, wait wait. I lost count. Don’t distract me.” You say and poke his freckles more. 

“How many freckles do you think are on my face y/n?” He asks while admiring how your eyes really do sparkle when you look at him. 

“I don’t know bro, maybe 5 at most.” He bursts into laughter when you said that.

` S E U N G M I N ▪

Seungmin would be very patient with you. Unlike to the other members where they are almost always on thin ice. He would be very sweet and caring when you get your wisdom tooth removed. Even if you keep talking to him about anything even all the theories or nonsense you have to say, he will listen to everything. 

“Did you know that dogs understand some english?” You say to Seungmin. 

“Really? How is that?” He asks truly wanting to know your answer. 

“Well, I don’t really know. But can you just imagine, saying I love you to a dog and then it wags its tail so much because it knows you’re saying I love you to them?” 

“That’s so cute honey. What else do you know?” He asks hoping to keep the conversation going. 

“Well, did you know that most penguins only have one mate for life? They spend all their time together and if one dies the other one gets really depressed and doesn’t want to find another one to love?” 

“That’s really romantic and sad at the same time. We can just hope that the penguins that do find their mate live together until they die right?” Seungmin says to you. 

“Yeah. I hope they do. What was that one animal that finds the most perfect stone and gives it to their mate?” 

“You mean, a Penguin?” 

“Yeah! A Penguin! Speaking of Penguins, did you know that Penguins only have one mate for life?” You say to him again. Seungmin laughs at you, and yet replies.

“Really? Thats so sweet!” 

` J E O N G I N ▪

Jeongin would actually not know what to do. Like yeah he would take care of you and make sure you were okay. But when it comes to you saying how you saw a horse just outside your room, he wouldn’t know how to react. He will just know that you need all the love and cuddles he can give. 

“What did you say?”

“There was a dinosaur by the window. It was like this big.” You say pointing at the pillow by your side. “It was kinda small. I’m kinda disappointed that it wasn’t as big as a T-rex. Look there are fishes on the floor!” 

He looks down and then looks back at you. 

“Fishes? Where?” He takes a step towards you and you scream at him. 

“No! Don’t move! You’ll step on them if you move!” Then not a second later your head falls back on the pillow.

“What did they inject you with? You’re saying stuff and seeing things that I can’t see. I’m getting really concerned.” He says while laying down next to you. He hugs you and he thought that you were fast asleep. 

“Innie, the fairy is talking to me. She says that you’re really cute and she wants to steal you away from me! You won’t leave me right?” You look at him with big eyes and pouty lips. You were really scared that the fairy was gonna steal him away from you.

“Well, tell the fairy that I’m taken by the most beautiful angel there is. Even though right now the angel has a bleeding mouth, she is still very beautiful.” He says and kisses your forehead. 

“You heard that? He says he’s taken, and I’m his!” you give him a questioning look. “You were saying that I’m the angel right?” 

“Yes Angel. That’s you.”     

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan fluff #lee minho fluff #seo changbin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #han jisung fluff #lee felix fluff #kim seungmin fluff #yang jeongin fluff #stray kids crack #stray kids memes #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff

[peachyteabuck]

remember what you love like

summary: is a lunch date still a lunch date after you leave the restaurant?

a commission for @buckysbunny

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 2,014

trigger warnings: allusions to compulsory heterosexuality, fingering, fluff, mentions of sexting

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Natasha’s hands are tangled in your forest green cardigan, one hand on the small of your back while the other is pressed into the back of your neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs when you pull away to gasp for breath, head spinning as a trail of spit connects your mouths in a sight you wish you could see in one of those giant oil paintings that draw large crowds to art museums. “My beautiful little Bunny.”

You preen under her praise, your own hands shaky as they find purchase in her hair, the beltloop of her jeans, anything you can grab as she pushes you into your apartment, pressing you against each and every surface she deems fit. Somewhere between your front door and the wall directly opposite said entrance you lose your cardigan and your shoes, clothes falling to the floor as you’re pushes down the hallway and, finally, onto your bed. You’d made it that morning hoping your lunch date wouldn’t end after you’d left the restaurant just as you had cleaned the rest of your apartment. In truth you’re not sure whether the frantic scrubbing and organization of your kitchen was to impress her or distract yourself for how nervous you were, considering you and Natasha have been dating for about three months now and hadn’t done more than cuddle and today, today of all days felt like the right to rectify that. The two of you had spent all night sexting after you’d sent her a picture of you in your new bra – a pale pink one that made your tits look exquisite. Things had only escalated, you shoving your hands down your pajama shorts to get yourself off at her direction.

So yeah, given all of that, you were decently confident that you would end up with her tongue down your throat and her hands groping at your tits – a thought that left you some weird mixture of overjoyed and frightened.

As your back hits your girly, patterned comforter your heart beats against your ribcage, each chamber trying to rip itself from the rest of the muscle just so that it can travel to each of your limbs and make them shake. Something – someone – is screaming in your ears, the high-pitched sound nearly loud enough to drown out the woman who’s crawled on top of you.  

Nearly.

“Hey,” Natasha coos, peppering small kisses along your face and jaw and neck as her center presses into yours. “Hey, Bunny-“

You finally meet her eyes when that pet name – her pet name for you - falls from her lips. Only then does she notice how terrified you look.

“You good, Bunny?” she asks, her own heart now picking up not because her fingertips are on fire and your skin feels just as hot. “Is everything okay?”

“I, uh-“ you struggle to find the words, wishing you kept your blanket-like cardigan on so you could hide in it. “I haven’t done this with uh,” you trying to swallow despite your dry mouth. “With women.”

Natasha exhales deeply, face visibly softening. It doesn’t feel like pity, though, which suppresses a tiny bit of your nervousness; the last thing you want is for the woman responsible for the menagerie in your stomach each time she texts you or says your name or worms her way into every passing thought to think of you as some sort of charity case.

“Oh, babes,” she places each hand flat on either side of your jaw, both thumbs rubbing soothingly into your heated cheeks. “You know I’m okay with that – right? I don’t want you any less just because you haven’t done with women before.”

You sniffle, trying to keep the tears that prick the corners of your eyes in their spot. “A-are you sure?”

Natasha nods, leaving a small kiss on the center of your forehead. “Of course I am, Bunny. I don’t care how many women you’ve had sex with.”

“E-even though I’ve had sex with guys?” your eyes are big and scared, petrified of rejection.

Natasha just smiles, pulling you closer to her. “Yes, Bunny. Your sexual history certainly doesn’t define you as a person and doesn’t change how I feel about you. Okay?”

You smile back, leaning into her arms as you sniffle once more. “O-okay.”

“Now,” she smiles as she pulls back, readjusting herself onto her side as you stay on your back.  “Where were we?”

And just like that – with fear quelled and uncomfortable twisting in your stomach now loose and simmering below your skin – she returns to her original mission, one that involves ghosting her fingers over your clothed chest before thumbing at the hem of your denim skirt. “You’re so cute, Bunny,” she murmurs. “Such an adorable little Bunny all for me…”

Natasha then pushes your skirt up to your stomach, keeping it in place with her forearm as she begins rubbing the two middle fingers of her right hand along your clothed slit. Your chest heaves as she grins down at your scrunched eyes, furrowed brow, and kiss-swollen lips.

“So beautiful,” she murmurs into your neck, teeth barely pressing into the bruises that deepen with each passing moment. “So good for me, Bunny…”

Lewd moans fall from your mouth as circles your clit, the adorable pink cotton panties you had specifically chosen that morning hoping and praying this would happen now completely soaked through. They’re rough against your sensitive, desperate clit – pussy pulsing around nothing as you buck your hips frantically.

“P-please,” you moan, voice nearly unrecognizable now. “P-please N-Nat!”

She presses a firm kiss to your lips, smiling as she moves her hands to rub at your pussy under your panties. The feeling of her hand there without anything between her skin and your is intoxicating – her fingers easily finding your clit once more. “Call me Mommy,” she murmurs, free hand pushing the sweaty hairs from your forehead. “Call me Mommy, sweet Bunny.”

“Mommy, oh fuck-“ you gasp, the feeling of her hands and the mention of that title you’d been discussing the night before shooting another bolt of lightning through your nervous system, hands bunch the sheets in your palms – your fingers nearly numb as all of your blood rushes to your core. “Oh fucking shit!”

For the first time in what feels like hours you find the courage to open your eyes – another moan deep in your chest filling the hot, thick air. You always wondered why people described being fucked as being consumed, as being the main course in a large meal presented to some rich, old-timey monarch after they return from visiting the more desolate parts of the territory they rule over.

Now, though, under Natasha’s heated gaze with three of her fingers stuffed inside of you while the other hand presses into your stomach – you feel like some prized pig slathered in glaze and placed onto an obnoxious silver platter with a whole apple placed into your waiting mouth as fruits and vegetables circle your flesh. If you had ever felt desired, it certainly didn’t match up to the fire in Natasha’s eyes as she devours each time you twitch, moan, beg for more.

“You sure you want more?” she purrs, fingers stroking that spot inside of you that makes your legs shake and eyes tear up once more. “Does my greedy little Bunny want her Mommy to give her more?”

You nod furiously, mouth barely able to keep up with your racing thoughts. “Yes, fuck Mommy please please please I want-“ you moan as she fucks into you harder, reveling in watching you fall apart. “Please I’ll take anything you want to give me Mommy please!”

Without further delay Natasha moves between your legs, maneuvering you so that one of her hands fucked in and out of you while the other circles your clit in hot, tight circles. Your eyes don’t know where to focus – on the sight on Natasha’s hands working you into some kind of putty or the woman herself, whose smug grin and furrowed brow are almost intimidating in their determination.

“M-mommy,” you gasp out, legs trying to shut themselves involuntarily, stopped only by the woman between your legs. Your toes curl, spine bending forward as the white-hot pleasure in your stomach curls itself tighter and tighter around itself. “Mommy, Mommy, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-!”

You come with a guttural moan you almost don’t recognize as yours – a sound so animalistic you wonder if Natasha had rewired your brain into some pre-human thing incapable of speech. It’s hot, so hot, and in your post-orgasmic bliss you wonder if life could get any better.

“How you feeling, Bunny?” Natasha asks, trying to find some signs of life behind your glazed-over eyes.

“So fucking good! I feel so good, Mommy!” you gasp out, mouth dry and lunges seemingly devoid of oxygen.

The woman above you just laughs, though, throws her beautiful head back and laughs and oh God – oh God you need to find it in you to tell her to stop doing that because you’ve only been dating for a few months and her beauty radiates with the power of the sun and you weren’t born with UV-protection in your retinas and if her light doesn’t burn you to a crisp first you think you’re going to fucking explode.

“I’m glad,” she tells you, running her now-wrinkled fingertips over the inside of your trembling thighs. Silence settles of you both as you feel your bones…vibrate? Or maybe that’s chest your heart again – the stupid thing incapable of handling this much joy and pleasure at the same time. It takes a long while for Natasha to speak again, not wanting to spook you in your fragile state. “Hey Bunny?” she asks, watching to make sure you’d heard her. “I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”

You give her a small “okay,” body still as she climbs off your bed.

You’re boneless – inert as you lay there with your arms flat at your sides and your legs in the same bent position Natasha had left them in before she had oh-so meanly abandoned you. Just as before, your chest rises and falls as if a forty-pound weight was pressing into it – each inhale painful and a struggle with the exhales happening all too quickly. It’s unfamiliar, being so satiated. Being with men had left you feeling fine, maybe a little out of breath, but with Natasha? God, you wouldn’t be able to move if the fire alarms went off; you’d just lay here, vision fuzzy around the edges as the smell of smoke came through the air vents. (Then again, given the state of Natasha’s arms, you think she’d be able to carry you out of your apartment building just fine.)

She returns – just as she said she would – with a mug of cold water that she holds as if it was priceless and not something you thrifted for less than a dollar when you had moved from your last apartment.  

“Thanks,” you croak as she hands it to you, watching as you sit up and wince ever so slightly as your sensitive pussy presses into the sheets. You’ll need to change them – and soon – but somehow that feels like an impossible task as you gulp down what, in your state, tastes closer to ambrosia than the shit in your Brita. When you’re finished Natasha takes the now empty mug from you, placing it on your nightstand before hugging you to her chest and pushing you back until you hit the sheets once more, lying down next to you and throwing her arm around your waist.

“You good, Bunny?” she asks again, a part of her always worried about you no matter how much euphoria pooled in your veins.

You nod as you curl into her side, leaving a kiss on her collarbone as you listen to her heartrate slow as it returns its resting pace. It’s calming, that combined with the feeling of her fingers twirling in your mused hair lulling you into the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks.  

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff/reader #black widow x reader #lukis writes stuff #lukis does commissions #this was actually v fun to write i miss fluff lmao

[rosesvioletshardy]

i’m sorry - b.h

hi another imagine that was requested that took me forever to write and finish

not sure what this is but hopefully y’all like it because there were nights where i just stayed up staring at it hoping that i can think of something to write so yeah

masterlist

warnings: yelling?, angst

# of words: 2,916

--

Dating someone who was almost 10 years older than you and famous felt like a weird experience. Y/N wasn’t really used to it after dating for two years already since the biggest age gap she had with someone was someone who was only a year older than her. She was quiet and reserved and was sometimes sensitive, especially when someone raised their voice at her, which was why her last relationship didn’t work out.

 There were times where she felt like there was something wrong in their relationship because of how sometimes he would avoid her and sometimes would cancel dates and blow her off. She understood that he wanted to hang out with his friends at some points since he doesn’t get to see them that often especially when he has to leave for another country for filming. They did go on dates every now and then and would make sure to let the other know beforehand if they were to cancel it so they could reschedule. 

Recently Ben has been home for a few months and this was the longest he has been home that didn’t involve filming, even if it was in London since most of the time he had to stay on set in his trailer. He missed pretty much everyone in his life currently but the one thing he missed a little bit more was hanging out with his friends. He knew that wasn’t the best thing to think about or ever miss when he has a girlfriend but he hasn’t gotten or had a proper guys night out in a while with them and he wanted to do something with them again and act like teenagers. 

It was still early in the morning which meant that he had enough time to fit in a workout and lounge around before he went off at night. When he woke up, he felt the bed empty next to him which  meant that Y/N had gone to work and wouldn’t see him until he left for the night. He really did love her and wouldn’t know what he would without her. Ben loved her kind nature, how she always put others first before herself which he hated sometimes because he felt that there were times where she needed to focus on herself but she didn’t know how to sometimes. He didn’t do much that afternoon since there wasn’t that much to do. He went for a run, made breakfast, talked to Y/N, cleaned up around a bit. Ben knew he shouldn’t have been working while on a break from filming but he couldn’t help but start writing a screenplay he just started thinking of.

Hours have passed and it was now the evening which meant he was finishing getting ready for the night as his girlfriend walked into their apartment carrying a few take out bags as she kicked off her heels by the door and walking to the kitchen to set everything down before going to their room and finding him sitting on their bed putting shoes on all dressed up.

“Hey babe” she told him giving him a kiss on the lips as he got up almost towering over her

“Hey baby, how was work?’’ ben asked her as he got up and looked at himself in the mirror one more time before he left

“How long do you think I would go to jail for murdering someone for constantly annoying me?”

“Work was that bad?”

“Yeah, I was hoping that a certain someone will help make my night better as we eat the takeout I brought and watch someone movies while drinking some nice wine. Why are you all dressed up?” she asked looking up at him when she wrapped her arms around him

“I was going to go out with some mates since I haven’t gotten a proper chance to hang out with them in a while”

“Oh-” Y/N said feeling a bit disappointed

“You alright?” he asked her when he hear the disappointment in her voice

“Yeah, yeah i was just hoping to spend some time with my boyfriend after a shitty day at work, but you want to go out. It’s fine” she said pulling away and starting to change out of her work clothes

“Are you mad that i want to spend some time out with mates after not seeing them for a long time?” ben questioned her as he pulled away from her

“No, you can hang out with them. I was just hoping that I got to spend the rest of the night with my boyfriend after a shitty day at work and do nothing.” she defensively told him 

“I haven’t seen my friends in who knows how long because I’m either always away and working or they have their own lives and work, and if I do it’s never for a long time too. I always spend all my fucking free time with you. I don’t even remember the last time I just got to relax and hang out with them and just be one of the fucking guys!” he told her raising his voice a bit

“You had three fucking weeks to hang out with them and you chose today! I know none of them were that busy and neither were you in those weeks!” she called out back at him

“GOD! ARE YOU REALLY DOING THIS NOW? ACTING LIKE I CAN’T HAVE A FUCKING LIFE OUTSIDE OF ACTING? OUTSIDE OF DOING MY FUCKING JOB? I’VE KNOWN THEM SINCE I WAS A KID! I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR ONLY 2 FUCKING YEARS” he yelled at her raising his voice causing her to take a step back and flinch as he raised his voice, turning red as the veins in his neck began to stand out and his jaw clenched while tears began to escape her eyes

“No. you’re right. I’m sorry, go and have fun.” she sneered at him

“You know what I will.” he pointed a finger at her, then grabbing his keys and storming out of the room leaving her alone. The slam of the front door caused her to flinch as she soon broke down, falling down to the floor, with her back against their bed crying.

Ben on the other hand couldn’t focus at all when he left. The entire time he was driving to the pub, his jaw was clenched as one hand gripped the steering wheel tightly thinking about the scene that happened before he left and the thought and pulled into the lot of the pub. When he entered, he quickly spotted his friends and walked over to them before greeting them. Once they got their drinks, they began to catch up with each other and chat about everything that’s recently happened in their lives. Ben was distracted and couldn’t focus on what they were talking about and would just mindlessly drink his beer, zoned out and not paying attention as to the conversation that was happening between him and his friends. They all noticed that he was quieter than usual and wasn’t partaking in their conversation

“Jonesy? You a’right mate?” josh asked him which made ben snap out of his thoughts 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. ‘M just thinking.” 

“Everything alright between you and Y/N?” sam asked him taking a swing of his beer

“Everything’s fine between us. Now what were you talking ‘bout?” Ben asked them wanting to avoid the question not wanting to bother them with his relationship problems. All his friends could do was just look at each other and know he was lying from the way he was avoiding the question. Just because he was a trained actor doesn’t mean he’s a good liar at all. 

“Bullshit. Tell us what’s really wrong. Is it Y/N?” they kept asking him before he snapped

“Fine! Yes it is about her.” he told them as they listened closely

“She came home from work late and told me she had one of the worst days because of something her boss and coworker did. Then she mentioned how she wanted to just spend the rest of the night with me just eating take out and watching movies but I had already made plans with you lot and then it got worse. She explained to me everything and how we had three weeks to hang out but we never did and how you weren’t all busy to do so. But um, um, I may or may not have ended up yelling, “I’ve known them since I was a kid” and “i’ve known you for 2 years” at that is what brings us here.” ben told them all as they just stared at him and all he could do was nod 

“Yeah so that’s how my night has been.” he finished off with drowning the pint of beer in front of him

“You’re so screwed mate.”

“Yeah she probably hates you by now.”

“You think I don't know that?!” ben said irritated and slightly raising his voice before taking a deep breath

“Look, what you need to do right now is you need to go to tesco, buy some flowers, some chocolates, her favorite bottle of wine, and go back to your flat and apologize. That’s pretty much all you can do because yelling, especially with what you said, is just a big yikes mate.” sam told him

“Yeah, yeah i know. I guess I should be going then, if it’s going to close soon.” ben told them laying down some money and getting out of his seat

“Alright, i’ll talk to you all later” he finished as he put his coat back on

“Right, see you” his friends told him as he walked out to the uber he called earlier 

The drive to Tesco was quiet, seeing that his thoughts consumed him as he thought about the past 2 years he and Y/N were together. Within those two years, he has never raised his voice at her and the only time they yelled at each other was if they were messing around and playing. Yeah they had fights but never this serious. He was soon knocked out of his thoughts when the driver called out his name. Ben thanked him and got out, and entered the store.

He already knew what he was going to be getting since he was used to getting them for Y/N whenever she was on her period and didn’t go to the store. The only problem he was having was that he was debating on whether what kind of bouquet of flowers he should get her. A simple bouquet or a huge one seeing about how bad he fucked up. Deciding to go with the big one, he quickly made his way over the wine aisle and grabbed the most expensive but good one he could find before going to get some candy.

When he got all he needed, he went to the register, the older woman can tell that he did something bad by looking at everything he bought for Y/N and wished him luck once she finished ringing everything up. He wished her a goodnight and left the store and headed back to their flat hoping that she would forgive him. 

“Alright ben. This is it. You can just go in there, find her, and apologize while giving her everything. You didn’t mean to yell at her and you regret it. If you can get naked in front of people for a play, you can confront your girlfriend and admit your mistakes.” he said to himself as he stood outside their front door trying to calm himself down. 

He took one more deep breath before opening the door to find it completely silent and dark. Frankie didn’t even come to greet him which meant she was probably with Y/N. He set his keys down, remembering that he needed to pick up his car the next day when he was sober, and walked to their shared room. When he got there, he softly knocked on the door and got no answer. Ben waited a few seconds before knocking again and tried to turn the handle to find it was locked. Letting out a sigh and sat down, his back against the door and began to talk. 

“Y/N? Love? I don’t know if you’re asleep by now or if you’re still awake but i wanted to say I’m sorry. I was being a terrible boyfriend and decided to go out rather than be with you. I didn’t mean to yell at you and if i’m being honest i don’t know why i did it. I completely regret it because I know how someone raising their voice makes you and it made me feel terrible afterwards.” ben started  

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry, is that you have every right to be mad at me and can shut me off for as long as you want. Um, I got you some things I’d thought you’d enjoy and another way of saying “I’m Sorry” so, I’ll just leave them here. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight” he finished getting up and heading to the living room to lay down

Y/N was awake listening to everything he had said and she felt bad but not as bad as he did from when he yelled at her. She heard him set everything down and get up and listen as his footsteps grew quieter. Frankie laying beside her, Y/N scratched her ears and began to talk

“He feels really bad about it, huh franks?” she asked knowing that she wasn’t going to get an answer from a dog

“Same here. I should’ve just let him go without saying anything. Shouldn’t have said anything in general.”

“Don’t look at me like that, let’s just go see what he bought.”

Y/N got out of their bed and walked over to the door and opened it to find her favorite sweets, a bottle of really expensive wine, and some of her favorite flowers. She noticed the note inside the flowers that she noticed had his handwriting listing some of his favorite things about her. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him a little tipsy writing everything down, but she knew that whenever he’s even the tiniest drunk he becomes a little clingy with the people around him before he lets loose. Walking down the hallway, she walked past all of the photos of her and Ben throughout the years and couldn’t help but smile. Some people thought it was weird that the two of you had pictures hung up since you weren’t married and some of them were just the two of them being themselves and messing around. 

Y/N got to the living and saw his sleeping figure on the couch. She couldn’t tell if he was actually sleeping or if he just had his eyes closed. Walking into the kitchen, Y/N put the flowers in a vase with water and put the wine and chocolates onto the kitchen table before walking over to where Ben was. She admired him and everything he did for her. Ben felt someone staring at him and opened his eyes to find Y/N smiling at him.

“Hey.” she whispered

“Hey” he answered back. It was quiet between the two of them for a moment as he sat up 

“Listen, before you say anything I want to tell you that yelling at you, especially like that, was one of the worst things I could possibly do. Especially when I knew how you would react. You were right. I had weeks to hang out with them and you came home feeling the worst. I should’ve canceled or rescheduled and stayed home with you, especially when you had a bad day.” he said all in one breath

“Ben, no it’s my fault. You’ve known them since you were teens and it makes sense that because you weren’t filming that you would want to go out and just be a normal person and feel like a teenager again. I spent all those weeks with you and it made sense that you would want to go out.” Y/N told him as ben shook his head trying to justify his argument and blame himself 

“No. it’s entirely my fault. I yelled and it got out of hand. I don’t want to argue with you about it now or ever about these kinds of things ever. Please. Now i just want to spend the rest of this night with my girlfriend and let her talk about her shitty day at work and how much she hates her boss and coworkers. It’s what she deserves and I need to make up for what I did to her.”  he told her, pulling her into his arms as he buried his face into her neck as she went into his chest.

“Well then, there’s a really expensive bottle of wine this guy bought for me and some take out and I think we should open it and eat.” he said, staring into her eyes “I think the guy must be crazy in love for him to buy an expensive wine only for it to be paired with take out and chocolates” Y/N told him giving him a peck

“Yeah, he really is crazy in love and he doesn’t regret it one bit”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x female reader #ben x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x y/n #ben jones #ben jones x reader #ben jones headcanon #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fic #ben hardy smut #ben hardy angst #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy drabble #ben hardy headcanon #ben hardy blurb #ben hardy blurbs #ben hardy one shot #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #warren worthington the third #warren worthington iii #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington iii imagine #warren worthington x reader #bohemian rhapsody

[kat-katsuki]

Sunflower and White Rose | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader Part 3

Fantasy AU

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Warnings: Swearing (cuz bakugou)

tags: @jazzylove​ @whalerus​ @angie-1306​

WC: 3.1k

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Kirishima had to hold his hands over his sensitive ears when Bakugou started screaming over the cliff. Bakugou wasn't a dragon shapeshifter, but his roar was almost as loud as one. "FUCK!!!!" He growled at the valley. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"Calm down Katsuki!" Kirishima shouted.

"How the fuck do you expect me to fucking calm down!? How?! She's fucking partnered! And of all people, she's partnered with that shitty Deku!" Bakugou whirled around, flailing his arms in the air as if he were going to slap someone. "NnggggGGGRAHHH!" He threw his fist into the ground, denting it as well as injuring his knuckles. How he wished he could go to you, so you could heal his hand, but you were now someone else's partner. "Why...?"

"Well you didn't exactly give her a choice," said Kirishima. "Izuku was the only one who asked her."

"She asked him!" Bakugou reminded.

"Well of course she would. He gave her his flower! It'd be rude not to, considering he's the only one willing to give her flowers."

"I'm willing! What the fuck did you think I was saving that flower for?" Bakugou howled.

"BUT YOU DIDN'T! YOU RAN AWAY!"

Kirishima's words were like knives that stabbed right into Bakugou's already wounded heart. That's right. He ran away. He didn't even try. Why? Why didn't he try? Was he afraid? Afraid of what? Getting rejected? That's hilarious. Who in the right mind would reject him? You would. You definitely would. After all the harsh things he's said to you, after all the names he's called you. Why would you even accept his affection? You were afraid of him. He could tell by the way you cower in his presence.

"Fuuck..." Bakugou grabbed a fistful of his bangs. He sank down to the ground, squatting as he tried to hold back the tears in his eyes. He messed up. He really messed up. He's such a horrible person. He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve to be king.

Kirishima pretended not to notice the little streams gliding down the prince's cheeks. In their culture, crying was looked down upon. As royalty, he must never cry, not even when in pain. However, as his friend, Kirishima understood that Bakugou had it harder than anyone. He had to be dauntless, had to be strong. He had to be free, and he had to be perfect. Maybe that was why he was so attracted to you. You were the opposite of perfect. You were a scaredy-cat, and you were clumsy. You were bounded to the ground, and was hella weak.

But perhaps you were the one who was truly free. You were free from expectations, free from traditions. You were always out there learning new things, and being yourself without worrying that others might change their impression of you, since their impression weren't so great to begin with. In a way, he envied you. But what he envied you the most, was that kindness.

He gets mad easily, and always ends up saying hurtful things. He holds grudges, and he makes sure to return them tenfold. You, on the other hand, accepted all the negativity of others, and only returned with respect. You show empathy to all creatures. You possess qualities he secretly wished he had but never will have.

He tried his best to change for you. Ashido, Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima can all prove that. For the past few weeks he's been doing his best to control his swearing and refrain from calling them by the mean nicknames. It was all practice so he could talk to you normally. He can't believe all that practice went to nothing.

"Hey man, it's not over yet. You still have a chance," Kirishima placed a hand on Bakugou's shoulder.

"How? She already accepted his fucking flower," Bakugou grumbled.

"Come on man! The flower exchange isn't the main event! It's just an excuse for people to confess to their loved ones! The main event is the fire dance! Remember? Only true lovers who dance together at the fire dance will be blessed by the fire god, and their love will last for lifetimes to come!"

"What are you getting at?"

"What I mean is there's still time! The dance isn't until tomorrow night! You just have to confess your feelings and get her to dance with you by tomorrow night!"

That sounds easy, but how was he going to do that? Beat Deku up and take you by force? That would just make you hate him even more. Plus, what if you reject him?

"Stop thinking about the what-ifs!" Kirishima exclaimed, as if reading his mind. "You don't know how it's gonna turn out unless you try Katsuki! If you don't pursue her you're really going to lose her! Do you want that?"

The idea of getting rejected by you was humiliating, but the idea of losing you because he never bothered to try was even worse. "Alright....." A ghost of a smile appeared on Bakugou's lips. "But I'll need some preparations."

Kirishima's face lit up with excitement. "You got it man! Mina, Denki, and Hanta and I are ready to help any time!"

It was almost sundown. You were grinding the herbs you had collected earlier today. When you saw the sun start to set, you quickly picked up the Alstroemeria that you had picked for Midoriya. You didn't have a flower for him yesterday, so you planned to return one today. You hoped he'd like it.

Midoriya showed up right on time. The sky was a beautiful orange red, a sign that the fire god had descended from heaven.

Legend says that thousands of years ago, the fire god, Hino, descended from heaven, and fell in love with a mortal, Nue. They married and had a child. That child was the first fire breather, the dragon. When Hino's mortal wife passed away, he was very sad. In order to see her again, he bound their souls together, and descended from heaven. It is said that when two souls are bound, they will always be able to find each other, in all of their lifetimes. And they will fall in love, over, and over again, for eternity. To celebrate their love, their descendants would hold a festival every year on the day the fire god was said to have descended to earth. And it is said, true lovers who dance the fire dance together will get their blessings from the fire god, so they too can bind their souls for eternity.

"Ready?" Midoriya asked.

"Before we go, I want to give you this," you said as you handed him the Alstroemeria. "I'm sorry I didn't have a flower for you yesterday."

"That's okay, and thank you. I love it," Midoriya smiled as he accepted the orange and yellow flower from your hand.

The two of you headed into the depth of the village, where the festival was being held. Torches were set up all over the sides of the streets, and there were games and competitions, food and dances!

You and Midoriya went to the carpenter's yurt, where he had set up a floor full of dragon masks. He gave you and Midoriya each a dragon mask, which you two wore on the side of your faces, and the two of you headed to the next yurt.

When the two of you finally made it to the banquet, you were starving. The fire festival is the biggest event of the year, and the food of the banquet is hunted by the best hunters of the tribe, prepared by the best cooks too. Each year they'd prepare three days worth of food for the entire village. You swore you'd eat a whole year's worth of meat, because after this day you'll have to wait for the next year.

"(Y/N)! Izuku! Heyyy! Finally found you guys!" While you and Midoriya were grabbing food, you heard a familiar voice call out your names.

"Eijirou-kun? Mina-chan? Hanta-kun and Denki-kun too?" Midoriya raised a brow. "Why were you looking for the two of us?"

You noticed how Bakugou wasn't with them, and there was a hint of disappointment in your heart. However, on the bright side, he may have found a partner, and was currently with them right now. Wait, why does that hurt even more?

"Well we were going around the festival as a group, and we wanted to ask if you guys wanna join us!" Ashido said. You're brows lifted in surprise. It's not uncommon for friends to travel in groups, but the fire festival is really a couples thing, so you were surprised to see Kirishima and Ashido traveling with Sero and Kaminari.

"I guess I'm okay with it! What about you (Y/N)-chan?" Midoriya asked you.

"Yeah! The more the merrier!" You replied. In truth you weren't close with any of them, but since they were Midoriya's friends, you didn't want to be rude.

"Great! Wait... (Y/N)-chan why aren't you wearing your fire dress?" Ashido asked, looking up and down at your plain, grey thin strapped dress which ended at your knees. You had a tight belt on your waist with some accessories dangling, but it was nothing different from you normally wore.

The dragon women don't normally wear dresses, but the fire dress was different. It is a traditional outfit especially for the fire dance. It's usually made by the mother for the daughter. Everyone's fire dress is different, but it is generally always in brilliant shades of reds, orange, and yellows. Ashido's fire dress was very similar to her normal wear. It was a red and black zebra print breast cover, and she wore one metallic breast plate over her left breast, as she normally would when she was out riding dragons. She had two long sashes flowing down in front and behind her legs. The sashes were a beautiful red, mixing into orange and yellow at the end.

"I...don't have anyone to make one for me," you told her. Your mother passed away when you were very little. Ashido quickly placed a hand over her mouth, regretting asking the question. "Plus, Izuku and I don't plan on doing the fire dance."

"Why is that?" Kirishima asked.

"Well, the fire dance is a lovers thing. We're just friends, so we think we'll just stand by and watch," Midoriya chuckled.

A soft smirk made its way to Kirishima and his friends' lips. Suddenly, Ashido clapped her hands together. "Ahh! I suddenly have the urge to relieve myself! But it's gotten so dark, it's not safe out here! (Y/N)-chan do you wanna come with me?" she asked.

"Eh? Uh...sure...." You couldn't say no. Ashido winked at Kirishima and grabbed you by the wrist. Without warning she dashed off, dragging you with her. "AAHH!" You were not a good runner. Especially not against the strongest female warrior of your tribe.

You noticed how she dragged you straight out of the village, which was weird because there were multiple places in the village where people did their business. The dragon mask on your head fell to the ground, but she didn't give you a chance to pick it up. But she didn't give you a chance to ask because you were busy trying to breathe while running through the meadows.

When she finally came to a stop, you immediately fell to the ground. You let go of her hand as you fell to your knees and gasped for air. Your sweat dripped onto the hard soil in pitter patters. Your chest expanded and shrunk exaggeratedly as you tried to intake as much air as possible. "A-....Ashido...-san....why did you....bring me here?" you panted.

She didn't answer you, instead she called out to the darkness. "Hey! I brought her! Make sure you don't fuck up this time!" she shouted. You felt your blood go cold. What did she want with you all the way outside the village? Was she gonna kill you?

You were about to scream, but you heard a familiar voice shout back, "SHUT THE FUCK UP RACOON EYES!"

Ashido chuckled before turning to you. "Sorry I tricked ya! Please forgive me. If all goes well, that guy will bring you back," she pointed her thumb towards the dark outskirts of the meadow.

"What?" You asked. You couldn't see a thing in the darkness.

Ashido's chest expanded. She blew out puffs of fire all around them, each puff of fire landing on a torch, lighting it, until ten torches were lit all around them. Your eyes widened at the sight before you. White roses. White roses everywhere. You thought you were taken to a meadow, but this was a sea of white roses. But for some reason there were no thorns poking at you. Why is that?

"Alright, I'm out!" Ashido suddenly disappeared.

"What?" You stood up, turning around, but she was gone.

"I'm sorry... I got those shitty bastards to help me, but removing the thorns took some time." A familiar voice said in an unfamiliar tone. You turned around again, this time to face the torches. At the very center, stood a familiar spiky ash blonde man with breathtaking crimson eyes. He wore earrings made of the red hawk's talons, necklaces made of the great howlers' blue claws. Each bead on his neck was a proof of the number of battles he's won. A furry red cape slung over his shoulders, covering the back of his bare torso. It was none other than your prince.

"Prince Katsuki? What are you doing here? What about the fire festival?" you asked in disbelief, still trying to make sense of the situation.

Bakugou slowly made his way towards you through the roses. "Yesterday, I messed up and lost my partner to someone else. Right now, I'm getting her back," he said.

"Partner? To who? Ashido just left though!" You pointed to the direction behind you. Your eyes expanded at the same pace as him getting closer to you. Finally, he was standing right before you, his figure towering over you like a tall and almighty dragon. It was rude to look royalty in the eye, but for some reason you couldn't take yours away from his.

"I know I said a lot of mean things to you... I never thanked you for saving me, and keeping my secret... I'm not the nicest person, and I'm not worthy of your kindness...but still... I want to tell you that I love you... I love you (Y/N). I want to be your partner. I want to get the fire god's blessing with you." Under the torch light, you could vaguely see a hint of red over Bakugou's cheeks. His beautiful rubies gazed right into your (e/c) gems.

"What...." You were utterly lost for words. Did your ears play tricks on you? Because just now you felt like you heard your prince ask you to be his partner. "M-...Me?!" You pointed at yourself, gawking at him for confirmation.

Bakugou clicked his tongue impatiently. "Well who else in the village has a shitty name like (Y/N)?!" Crap! "I-I mean- You're the only one named (Y/N).... Your name isn't shitty...." He looked down in guilt, and then lifted his eyes back up expectantly. "So.... What's your answer?" His face was turning as red as his eyes.

Little streams started pouring out of your confused eyes. Your prince, the one who you've been in love with, just told you he loved you. This has to be a dream. But if it's a dream please don't let you wake up. "B-But..... That's impossible... I'm just.... These white roses, you must have prepared them for someone special! Because that flower means- I'm-"

"These are your favorite flowers right? I prepared them for you!" Bakugou gently took your hand in his. He searched in your teary eyes trying to look for the answer he needed. "Is it not?"

"F-...For me?"

That's when you realized, there's no way Bakugou would have known the meaning of these flowers. The dragon tribe don't give meanings to flowers like the people of the south do. They just picked whatever was the most colorful and vibrant. A light chuckle escaped your lips, for you felt so silly for forgetting such a thing.

Now it all made sense. The white rose he brought to the flower exchange, and why he suddenly ran off. But you still couldn't believe it. "It is...." You nodded softly to answer his previous question.

"Why do you...like the white rose?" Bakugou asked.

You covered your tearful eyes with your free hand. Your breaths became staggered as you started to sob, "Because....I'm in love with a man." Bakugou felt his heart stop at your words. "He's the bravest, strongest, most handsome man in the tribe. He's of royal descent..... He's someone I shouldn't even dream of being with...." Huh? Brave... Strong... Royal descent... Why does Bakugou feel like you're talking about him? You're talking about him, right? "These flowers...have a special meaning in the south. They symbolize the words I want to tell him but would never be able to...."

Bakugou removed your hand from your beautiful (e/c) orbs. Even with tears in them, they were still so breathtakingly beautiful. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned his face closer to yours, eyes wide and anticipating. "What do they mean?" he asked, so softly that even right next to him you could barely hear his voice.

Your eyes trailed down, almost in shame.

"I'm worthy of you."

Your voice was so soft you could barely hear yourself. The moment you uttered those words you wish you hadn't. How could you say such a thing to Bakugou? Just what exactly do you have that makes you even think you might be worthy of him? You started to chuckle nervously, not noticing the wide eyed look on the ash blonde prince's face. "S-Silly right? How could a failure like me ever be worthy of your highness... I'll just go-"

Before you could finish, Bakugou grabbed your face with both hands and smashed his lips on yours. He couldn't put words together to tell you how wrong you are, so he had to show you through action.

You are not a failure.

You stood wide eyed, too shocked to move a muscle. You and Prince Katsuki were kissing.

For the longest time the only thing you could hear was the heart of your own heartbeat. After what seemed like a hundred beats, Bakugou finally released his lips from yours. "Don't say that...." he whispered. "Don't call yourself a failure. You're more than worthy (Y/N)."

"D-Do you mean it?"

"Be my queen (Y/N)." Bakugou brushed his thumbs under your eyes, wiping away the tears. "Like my old hag is to me old man. Like Nue is to Hino. Let our souls be bonded for eternity."

Tears flooded down your face, for you could no longer contain the happiness you felt. You nodded. "I love you my prince. I also want to be with you for lifetimes to come!"

You closed your eyes as his lips captured yours once again. For that moment everything seemed to have disappeared, leaving you and Bakugou, the only two souls in this world. It was just the moon, the fire, the roses, and the two of you.

You were filled with disappointment when his lips parted from yours. However, a soft smile spread over your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. "Let's go get our fucking blessings."

Flower Language:

Sunflower- Adoration

Hydrangea- Gratitude for being understood

Alstroemeria- friendship

White Rose- "I'm worthy of you"

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Also on AO3! A kudos would be greatly appreciated!

#bnha fanfic #bnha #mha #mha fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fanfic #love #white rose #sunflower #xreader #boku no hero fanfic

[moonlit-jeno]

Movie Night (m.)

Pairings: Lucas, Xiaojun, Hendery, Yangyang x Reader

Genre: SMUT, literally a pwp, fivesome??

Words: 3.2k

Summary: Maybe you don’t hate Lucas as much as you thought.

“I was sitting there.” True, Lucas had been sitting in the spot on the couch you are currently occupying. But then he’d gotten up to get a drink and left the space wide open, so you’re not going to move.

“Key word: was. Past tense. I’m sitting here now.” You smile brightly at him. He scoffs. “Look, there’s a spot on the floor over there.” You point with your foot to the area between the coffee table and the fireplace that clearly doesn’t offer enough room for his long limbs. Maybe it’s mean, but the two of you had never been particularly nice to each other.

He looks to the two boys sitting next to you on the couch with an expression that says can you believe this? Xiaojun merely shrugs while Hendery laughs, pointing to the floor. “She’s right, you know.”

Lucas gives them a hurt look before spinning around and dropping all 6 feet of himself on top of you. You grunt as all the air is knocked out of you, squirming under him. “Lucas, I can’t fucking- breathe, you asshole.” You slap his thigh and he shifts, scooting off your stomach so that he’s more on your thighs.

“Then give me my spot back.” He looks over his shoulder at you and raises his eyebrows. You shake your head. He shrugs and makes himself comfortable on your lap.

Yangyang, who had been dead to the world on the only chair in their living room, springs to life. “Okay, Kun’s taking too long, lets start the movie!” He ignores outraged cry of “I’m making you food, you heathen!” from the kitchen.

Despite how uncomfortable it should be to have Lucas on top of you, it’s strangely pleasant. At least you’re warm enough that you don’t have to argue over sharing the blanket with him. You can’t help but snort while you wonder just how long it’s been since you’ve had physical affection that you’re enjoying cuddling with Lucas. Because for a guy so warm and full of love, it seems that he’d forgotten to leave any space in his heart for you.

Not that you’ve made any room for him, either. He’s loud and annoying on his best days, and beyond infuriating on his worst. You doubt you could beat him in a fight but boy, does he make you want to try. You normally try to limit your aggressive comments for the sake of your friends, but he doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

“Stop breathing so loudly.” Lucas snarks, not even bothering to turn around. “It’s literally all I can hear.”

“I’m breathing normally! Maybe you’re just not used to hearing anything over your annoyingly loud mouth!” Yangyang shushes you from across the room and you bite your lip, clenching your jaw.

Slowly, you relax again. Your arms are laying awkwardly at your sides and you lift them up to rest on Lucas’s stomach, waiting for him to yell at you. He doesn’t say anything. Kun comes in at some point to say he’s going out to dinner with friends, pausing to give you and Lucas a strange look. You offer him a shrug,

The movie progresses uneventfully, with the exception of you wanting to strangle Lucas for every loud laugh he lets out. The onscreen jokes aren’t even funny. To be honest, the movies pretty terrible. Like the directors didn’t know what direction they wanted to go, so they just went everywhere. Example: the random sex scene that comes out of nowhere.

There’d been no set up for it, so none of you had time to prepare for it. And for such a terrible movie, the scene’s fucking hot. You feel much too warm and you have to resist the urge to push Lucas off of your lap to get some much needed air. Your palms stay on his stomach because you figure it’s more awkward to change positions than to pretend nothing’s happening. You can feel his breathing get heavier, more rapid, and you unthinkingly start stroking the smooth skin where his shirt had ridden up. You’d meant for it to be soothing, to calm him down a bit, but he jerks on top of you. Okay, maybe your thumb is a little close to his waist band.

His hand grabs your wrist and you expect him to pull your hand away. What you are not prepared for is for him to drag your hand even lower, resting it on top of his hardened cock. He lets go, then. Doesn’t force you to do anything, just lets you know that hey, this is a thing.

You swallow thickly, heart slamming in your chest, stomach jolting as electricity shoots down your spine. Lucas jerks on top of you when you squeeze him accidentally, and he leans back so that it’s your chest to his back, his head next to yours. Shooting a glance at Xiaojun to make sure he isn’t looking, you move your hand up his length. And keep moving it.

“Fuck, you’re big.” You gasp it without thinking, thought it’s quiet enough that only Lucas can hear it. His lips curl upwards but he doesn’t turn to look at you. A good thing, because you don’t want him to see how turned on you are just from palming him over his sweatpants.

You lightly run your hand up and down the length, taking your time, not applying too much pressure. Lucas looks like he’s caught somewhere between heaven and hell, your barely there touch driving him insane. A tight squeeze to his tip has his hips jerking up, a loud whine leaving him. You freeze, but none of the others even look up. Slowly, you resume your motions.

It doesn’t take you long to figure out how he works. He’s most sensitive at the tip, so that’s where you focus your efforts. It’s even better for you because you don’t have to strain your arm to reach. You build up a rhythm, rubbing two fingers around his head, squeezing every time he seems like he’s comfortable. He’s sagging against you at this point, and you can tell that all of his efforts are focused on staying still.

“Are you gonna come soon?” You ask him, pressing a wet kiss to his ear lobe. Lucas doesn’t answer, but you hope it’s a no because you’re having too much fun right now. He just groans softly, reaching for your hand and pulling it under his sweatpants.

The skin on skin contact is so much better. The flesh is hard and hot under your touch, the precum leaking from the tip making the glide easier. You run your hand over his whole length, mapping out his veins as you go, before returning to the head and repeating your motions from earlier.

You’re so turned on at this point that it almost hurts, the throbbing in your core painfully empty. Every rough breath that Lucas takes makes you leak more and more, and your panties are sticking uncomfortably to you. There’s a little dampness on your inner thighs and you’re worried that you’re dripping onto the couch. Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realize how tightly your gripping Lucas until his hand flings around for purchase, gripping onto your forearm tightly. His head is still thrown back, eyes squeezed tightly shut, teeth digging into his lower lip. You have the urge to destroy him.

Miraculously, none of the boys have noticed yet, too enraptured with what’s happening on screen. It’s thrilling, knowing that it would be so easy for them to look over and see what you’re doing. So easy to get caught. It’s not like either of you are being subtle. One look at Lucas’s face and it would be obvious somethings up. Not to mention you have your hand down his pants.

“Mhmm, your cock is so nice.” You kiss up his neck to his ear, pressing a kiss there. “So big, so thick. Would fill me up so nicely, wouldn’t you?” Lucas can’t say anything, knows he would blow it as soon as he opens his mouth. “And I feel so empty right now. I wish I was sitting on your lap instead.”

He shudders, trying so hard to compose himself. You stroke him lightly before giving a harsh squeeze. His thighs shake when you make a fist around him and rub your palm over the tip in quick circles. Lucas is definitely close.

“Such a nice cock, such a shame you don’t know how to use it.” Lucas stiffens at this, eyes opening to glare at you. You just smile, feeling a rush of power. “It just feels too good, doesn’t it? Having such a tight, wet pussy around you?“ You let your tongue drag along the side of his neck and his body thrashes at the image you paint for him. “It just feels too good, yeah? Can’t help but lose control.”

Lucas comes with a loud grunt, his whole body shaking as you stroke him through it. Come shoots up and stains his shirt, spills down over your hand and his sweatpants.

You wipe his come off on his thigh, stroking his stomach to cool him off as he comes down from his high. His breathing is still harsh and ragged and you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

There’s another moan and it takes a moment for you to realize that it didn’t come from Lucas. You glance over to find both Hendery and Xiaojun looking at you. Xiaojun looks very caught, with his legs pulling up to his chest to hide his tent. Hendery doesn’t seem to be as shy, his legs spread wide, boner on full display.

Hendery raises an eyebrow. “Okay, no. You’re not about to judge us for touching our own dick when you’ve just had your hand on Lucas’s dick for the past 30 minutes.”

“Congrats one lasting, by the way! I don’t think I could’ve done it.” Yangyang yells, giving Lucas a thumbs up.

Lucas just laughs. “Well, it wasn’t hard. Y/n sucks at handjobs.” You smack him, offended.

“Hey! I’m great at handjobs, asshole. You were literally a mess on top of me, don’t start.” You shove at Lucas until he’s off of you, though he doesn’t waste time before picking you up and sitting back down, this time with you on his lap.

“Prove it. Lets let the rest of them decide.” Lucas sounds smug, and you hate that tone of voice.

“Fine. Are you guys okay with it?” All three of them nod quickly, Hendery quick to add a “more than.”

You reach for Xiaojun first because he’s the one next to you. He bites his lip, letting his legs fall open for you. His eyelids flutter shut at the first touch of your hand over his pants and you smile to yourself. It’s cute.

“Are you really this hard from watching me jack of Xuxi?” Xiaojun groans, shaking his head, though his hips buck up when you slip your hand under his boxers.

“Oh come on, don’t lie. You were moaning and you weren’t even the one being touched.” Hendery points out, yelping when Xiaojun smacks him.

Xiaojun moans, soft and breathy, when you reach down to play with his balls. “Fine, yes, I- oh fuck, do that again. It’s just- you have nice hands.” He pants out, one hand reaching out to grip something. He ends up holding onto Hendery’s shoulder.

“Wow, Xiaojun, gonna come already?” Yangyang laughs, turned around in the chair to face you. Xiaojun doesn’t even bother to respond verbally, throwing up a weak middle finger instead.

You motion the youngest over. “Yangyang, you’re so far away. Come join the fun.” He takes a second to fix his boner situation before moving closer, settling on the arm rest next to Hendery.

Lucas is quiet for once, and it’s such a pleasant change that it doesn’t register that he’s being too quiet. Xiaojun is a moaning mess under your touch, and you’re so focused on making him feel good that you nearly vault yourself off of Lucas’s lap when he moves his hand to your pussy. He wastes no time slipping his hand under your loose shorts, rubbing you over the fabric of your panties. The pleasure it brings you has you moaning, hips rutting into his touch. A whine leaves you when he pulls his hand away, and it’s a smug look from him that snaps you out of your lustful haze.

“Baby wants my fingers that badly, huh?” Lucas sounds so cocky and it pisses you off, because yes, you do want his fingers that badly. They’re long and thick and you’ve been on edge for so long, all you want is to get off. You don’t respond, shifting all your attention to XIaojun, jerking him off pointedly. He cries out, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle his moans as he comes, white spilling over your hand and his clothes. “Aww, don’t ignore me. I can feel how wet you are, baby.” “I don’t want your fingers, Lucas. I’ve been horny for like an hour- I would take anything at this point.” You let your eyes trail over his face. “You’re not special.” You wipe your cum-filled hand on his thigh, rolling your eyes at him.

“Fine, you could take anything? Ride my thigh, then.” He raises his eyebrows as if to say go on.

“I- what? I’m not going to do that.” You want to- God do you want to, but he’s so infuriating and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He flexes his thigh muscles, lifting his leg to press it into your core. “Come on, y/n. I know you want to.” You look over at the other three boys- XIaojun looks like he’s half asleep, though he has Yangyang on his lap and is holding on to him tightly. Hendery is sitting next to you, palming himself leisurely.

“Or I could eat you out.” Yangyang offers, head cocked to the side. “Doesn’t my tongue sound so much nicer than Lucas’s thigh? He hasn’t washed his pants in like a month.” “Yes I have!” Lucas shouts, too loud directly next to your ear. You flinch at the volume. They look ready to argue the topic further, but you interrupt them.

“Yangyang, c’mere.” He shoots Lucas a smug look, prying himself out of Xiaojun’s arms to sit on the carpet in front of your spread legs. Xiaojun whines and wraps himself around Hendery. “Let’s see you put that tongue to good use.”

Yangyang smiles at you, dropping a kiss to your inner thigh before pulling down your shorts. A gentle kiss is pressed to your clothed core before your panties are gone, too, and then it’s just Yangyang’s mouth on your bare pussy. He parts your folds with his thumbs, tongue delivering a broad lick up your slit. You whimper, shifting on Lucas’s lap.

“You taste good.” Yangyang says, pulling back to admire your pussy. “So wet, too. I bet you’re dying for some relief right now.” You’re not one to beg but you’re getting close to it. The frustration that comes with being on edge for so long has you close to tears, You nod slowly.

Yangyang doesn’t waste another second before diving in, eating you out like it’s his sole purpose in life. His tongue fucks in and out of your hole quickly, before moving up to flick at your clit. You can’t help but to moan loudly, squirming and bucking up into his mouth. Lucas wraps his arm around your waist to keep you still.

A soft groan reminds you of Hendery’s presence and you reach your hand out to grasp his cock. He lets you take over for him easily, sagging against the couch as you start up a quick rhythm. There’s none of the teasing you’d given the others- you’re much to scattered to do something like that.

“Oh fuck, just- just like that.” Yangyang hooks your legs over his shoulder and you use your ankles to pull him in closer. “Don’t stop.” He mumbles something into your core and the vibrations have you moaning.

Loud moans leave you, your arousal only fueled when you think about just how filthy this whole situation is. You’re jerking off your friend while being eaten out by your other friend, all while sitting on the lap of your enemy who you’d jerked off earlier. Oh yeah, and all while your other friend is passed out because you’d also jerked him off. You whimper and clench around air.

Lucas pulls your face towards him, attaching your lips with no warning. You let yourself melt into him, moaning as he licks past your lips, plays with your tongue. He sucks on the muscle and you feel yourself gush, melting against him. You chase his mouth when he pulls away, feeling absolutely shameless at this point. Lucas just laughs and attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking hickeys into the skin. You throw your head back against his shoulder and give into the dizzy pleasure that’s trying to consume you.

Hendery places his hand on top of yours and fucks up into your grip, his groans growing in volume until he comes with your name on his lips. He lets go of your hand, tilting your face towards him before sliding his fingers past your lips. You suck on them mindlessly, moaning at the saltiness of his come.

Yangyang does something fantastic with his tongue and you come like that, Hendery’s fingers in your mouth, Lucas’s lips on your neck, and Yangyang tongue deep in your pussy. It’s the ultimate bliss, and you let yourself float off to the stars as they work you through it with gentle touches. Xiaojun mumbles about how gorgeous you look, his eyes half open from exhaustion and lust.

Soft moans leave you as Lucas continues to mark up your neck, Yangyang looking up at you from between your legs as he runs his palms up and down your thighs.

You reach your hands out for him. “Come on, let me return the favor.”

Yangyang just shakes his head, laughing. “I’m okay.”

You furrow your eyebrows, about to ask why, when Hendery lets out a bark of laughter. “Wow, Yangyang, I can’t believe you came in your pants. What are you, fifteen?” They start arguing, poor Yangyang hiding his face in your thigh. You stroke his hair, letting your eyelids flutter shut as Lucas shuffles around, somehow cuddling you more aggressively. You pull Yangyang up onto the couch, and him and Hendery end their argument by cuddling. Yangyang’s half on top of you half on top of Hendery, Xiaojun’s still attached to Hendery’s back. It’s so utterly comfortable that you fall asleep without much thought.

(You’re waken up by Kun’s loud screaming when he comes back from dinner. He’s traumatized.)

#nct smut #wayv smut #lucas smut #yukhei smut #yangyang smut #hendery smut #xiaojun smut #guanhang smut #i had a dream about this #and almost cried #also i never write his name as lucas this feels weitd

[sedated-love]

ShigarakixReader smut

Fifth post of October!! (lol i’m gonna catch up I swear)

I’ll admit I’m a bit more self conscious of this one lol. It’s not my favorite I’ve written this month but I really tried XD 

TW- Mild noncon, Mild mild break, voyeurism and exhibitionism 

Hope you guys enjoy though! If you like it, please take the time to reblog <3 It helps a ton! Also if you have any suggestions for what I write in the future, please feel free to leave them in my ask box!

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

“It’s been centuries since I’ve felt like this, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

You let out a yelp as Shigaraki’s hand entangled in your hair, easily pulling you back against his chest. The god’s breath was ragged as he held your hair tightly with one hand, the other holding his abdomen where you had wounded him in your attempt to escape.

Thick black blood oozed from the wound and his red eyes were glowing with rage as he led you by your hair further into the temple. You had to stumble after him to keep yourself from being dragged as he made it abundantly clear that you would be following him whether it was on your feet or not.

“L-Let me go!”

Your head was starting to throb from the rough treatment from the god and your hands instinctively grabbed and clawed at his wrist, trying to lessen the pressure but he didn’t allow for it. He easily used your hair to toss you against the wall of the corridor as sharp hiss escaped his lips.

Pain immediately dispersed through your back as it collided against the wall and you went limp as you hit the ground. Your entire body was aching, and you had a feeling as Shigaraki stalked closer to you that it was only going to get worse. You always knew your god wasn’t merciful, but you never imagined he would have fallen in love with you.

“You signed your contract, mortal. It’s about time you followed through with it.”

Soft sobs left your lips as grabbed you by the arm, forcing you up to your feet with his inhuman strength. His red eyes eating you alive as they dragged along your trembling frame. “You sold your soul and body to me…remember~?” You could hear the sadistic smirk in his voice without even having to look at him, wishing that you could forget.

You had come to his temple late one night and begged him to sign a contract with you. You were sick of the human world and you were convinced that you wanted to be immortal. You had always heard such great stories of the gods and how their lives were never brandished with human troubles like lack of food or wealth. You wanted that for yourself…and you got it.

“You’re mine now so submit to me~ Stop fighting me, and all of your pain will cease~”

He purred as he cradled you close to his chest, his voice becoming soothing as if he were a completely different person than just moments before. You could feel the rage building up inside of you as he touched you as he pleased so easily. You knew that you did this to yourself, but you couldn’t help but fight back as your immortality wasn’t worth this to you.

You slapped him before you even realized that your hand was moving. The red mark that immediately appeared on his face being the indication that told you that you had clearly fucked up. His calm demeanor was quick to melt as he clicked his tongue in annoyance, his red eyes glaring daggers into your soul as he grabbed you by the top of the head so roughly it felt like he was planning on crushing your skull with just one of his hands.

Soft whimpers of pain left your lips as you had a feeling in your gut that you were going to die. You knew that the god had fallen for you but Shigaraki loved you about just as much as a god could love anyone. The tight grip of his fingers slowly squeezing down on your skull was enough to fill your vision with black spots and your heart pounded painfully against your rib cage. You reached up and weakly dug your nails into his arm as if that were going to do anything at all to the god.

“U-Um…my lord…”

His hand paused as his attention was dragged to the servant who was now kneeling beside the two of you as if you weren’t bloodied and bruised, about to be killed. “what is it, peasant? I’m busy.” His tone was clearly annoyed as his eyes dragged back down to where you were wincing in pain under his tight grasp.

“You’re late for your meeting with the other gods…my lord…”

Shigaraki clicked his tongue softly. His distaste for being interrupted was prominent with the way he looked down at you as if genuinely considering blowing off the meeting all together, just to finish what he has started. That is until a sadistic smirk smeared itself on his face as he got an idea. You knew just from the sight of it that whatever he was planning wasn’t going to end out well for you. Just thinking about what sick things he’s planning made you want to hurl and if you had anything in your stomach, you may have.

“I’ll force you to realize who you belong to~”

He easily tossed you over his shoulder so that you could punch and kick all you want but it wouldn’t lead to anything as he made his way towards the meeting center. You had heard of Shigaraki going to such meetings before but you were always pretty sure there was a no mortal allowed rule but if that was the case, the god obviously didn’t care as he walked in the room with you still kicking and screaming over his shoulder, acting nonchalant as if you weren’t even there.  

“What’s the meaning of this?”

You heard the other gods pipe up as you were shoved on your back on top of the round table in the center of them. Anxiety filled your gut when you could see the sheer multitude of different gods who surrounded it, ranging from many you have heard before and some that you haven’t. Shigaraki roughly held you in place, not that it mattered as you were frozen from pure fear.

You had a hard-enough time dealing with one of the gods. You didn’t even want to begin to imagine dealing with them all. “I’m breaking my bitch in~ Showing them who they belong to” His eyes never left your body as you felt your blood run cold when he said that. You had no idea what he was planning but just from that you knew it couldn’t be good.

“Humans aren’t allowed in this meeting, Shigaraki.”

“She won’t be mortal for long.”

He easily ripped off all your clothes, leaving you naked and exposed in front of the entire room of immortal entities. You were left with your face flushed bright red in embarrassment as large powerful hands roamed your body possessively. “You wanted to fight me, little one? I’ll show everyone here who you belong to…including you.”

He leaned down, starting to mark every inch of you that he could get his mouth on. Hickeys or bites, it didn’t matter to him. If it bled, he simply lapped up the blood and kept going as he made sure that no on in the room could look at a single inch of your chest and stomach without seeing exactly who owned you.

You couldn’t help but let out pitiful mewls as he marked you. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the rough bites had your toes curling slightly and the fact that everyone in the room was just watching you, somehow made it all the more erotic. You wanted to curl away and hide from all the peering eyes but there was no where to go. You were completely trapped under their gaze.

Shigaraki had his hands firmly placed on your hips, making it so you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to and there was certainly no where to hide as you laid on the table, on full display for all of the gods in the room like some sort of sick entertainment.

“M-My lord…”

Your voice came out more as a whimper than you would like to admit as your hands went to entangle in his hair but he grabbed both of your wrists in one of his hands before you could manage to touch him. “Learn your place.” He shoved your hands above your head, not giving you any warning whatsoever before he shoved all of himself inside of you. Your back arched off the table as you let out a loud moan as you felt the harsh sting of being stretched around his cock with no preparations.

Your body twitched pitifully underneath him as your felt your breath hitch. You hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten himself out until it was too late. He was already pushed all the way inside of you, pressing against your deepest and most sensitive spots as he stood above you with that same sick smirk on his face that he always seemed to have.

A part of you wanted to fight back but there was something about him that had you completely submitting for him. Even when he wasn't touching you or holding you down, it was like the sheer size difference and aroma of him had you bearing your neck like an omega to the god.

He didn’t even bother letting you adjust before his hips started jerking, humming in approval at how your tight walls seemed to be pulling him in. “Do you get off on everyone watching you, motral~?” He pressed his hand down on your gut, so you were forced to feel his thick cock thrusting deep inside of you.

“I can feel your walls pulsating around me~ You like this as much as I do, huh~?”

You wanted to deny it but how could you when you were moaning every time he pushed inside. Lewd noises started to fill the room, making you even more embarrassed since everywhere you looked were just another pair of eyes watching you completely fall apart on his cock. He roughly grabbed your chin when he noticed your attention wandering elsewhere, a soft purr leaving his lips.

“Keep your eyes on me, little one~ I’m the one making you feel good, afterall~”

His hips pounded into you with inhuman speed and strength as you felt yourself completely fall apart. Pleasure was boiling in your stomach and even as you weakly quivered underneath him, there was nothing you could do besides lay there and take it. “I-I’m gon..na…cum…~!”

You didn’t even recognize your own needy and pitiful voice, but the god never slowed down. Even as you felt the pleasure bringing you over the edge and your body jerked from the euphoric feeling of your own orgasm, his hips just kept pounding roughly inside of you as he made it excruciatingly clear that you weren’t going to be done until he was.

You honestly couldn’t tell if it had been an hour or multiple as your brain got muddled from the pleasure. Drool ran down your chin as you lost track of the number of times you had cum. The pleasure had become overwhelming, but his hips didn’t slow down or stop for a second as Shigaraki continued to fuck you well past your human limits. You had honestly forgotten about the rest of the gods in the room as all your brain could focus on was the one above you who was turning your insides to mush.

“Who do you belong to~?”

He purred softly as he stroked your cheek in a seeming loving manner, his hips still roughly pounding into yours as he broke you in front of everyone. Your cheeks were stained with tears that had been caused by the over stimulation and your body was completely limp, marked practically everywhere you could see with bruises, bitemarks or hickeys. “Y-Yo..u…” Your voice cracked as you sobbed out your reply, feeling yet another orgasm approaching but you had cummed so many times at this point that it was almost painful.

Shigaraki snapped when he heard your reply. Until now his thursts were rough and fast but steady but when you finally submitted yourself to him, he became almost feral. Loud snarls clawed from the back of his throat as he pounded into you at a blinding rate. Your vision went white from pleasure as he forced another orgasm to course through your body.

Your back arched off the table as your let out loud sobs of pleasure as your body was practically used as a cock sleeve for Shigaraki in front of everyone. He started biting down on your neck and shoulders with animalistic growls, only lasting a few more thrusts before he was pumping his cum deep inside of you.

Your body trembled from the over stimulation as the god filled you to the brim, stretching you full of everything he had but he never moved to pull out, not wanting you to leak out a single drop of what he had gifted you. Afterall, a god’s cum was the gift of immortality. You couldn’t die as long as you had a part of him inside of you and he was going to make sure that you never went a day being empty again.

#shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki smut #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #tomurashigaraki #tomura smut #tomura x reader #tomura x you #my hero academia smut

[socratoteles]

A year to get Ph.D in letting go

The last time I was here, I wrote that perhaps it was time for me to go out and just enjoy the world. And amid the global pandemic, I sort of managed to do that. It was such a lifesaver in a year of goodbyes. I`ll get to that, but let me begin with my coronavirus scare.

On March 4 last year, I was away in Bandung, aware but not worried of some obscure virus that triggered a total lockdown in some Chinese cities. That very same day was also the time when my colleagues came in contact with a man who later confirmed of having contracted COVID-19.

That was how close I was of contracting the virus. Had I not taken a paid leave to write last year’s essay in the city where I was born, chances were high that I was another case as well, at that early stage of the pandemic too. I`m still familiar with the helplessness that came after I checked in to a hospital only to being denied the test (the nurse reasoned that the contact with my colleagues, who might catch the virus from the confirmed man, cannot be categorized as close contact).

And that experience, of confusion and fear of infecting loved ones, left a lasting impression that shaped my behavior going forward. After all, it takes a pandemic to make wearing mask and washing hands could made the difference between life and death.

Covid-induced isolation meant that I spent most of my time being holed up in my room for the past 12 months. To this day the side effects of this solitary existence is still beyond my full grasp. On one hand, this situation had brought out my inner resiliency, resourcefulness and adaptability in the long days and night when things were just so dark. On the other hand, it also forced me to deal with unresolved traumas and numerous intrusive thoughts, which I will get into later.

People get really creative during the long locked-down days, spending it doing viral social media challenges one after the other. Videoconferencing become a thing on its own and for some reason loads of folks played a game named Among Us too, perhaps to remind themselves of the interactions cruelly torn apart because of the virus.

There was also a newfound awareness on class too, because the coronavirus disproportionately affected different individuals with different income level. At least on my part, I was lucky that essential workers (the pandemic elevated the phrase into such a buzzword) near my place were safe and somehow never contracted the virus. It is worth mentioning that I definitely cannot survive this long if not for the minimarket workers, ride-hailing drivers and dozens of cooks, all of whom must have worked in long hours, despite knowing the risk, just to keep their families fed.

Others, however, were not so lucky. the SARS-CoV-2 had infected more than a million Indonesians a year after it was officially detected in these shores. Millions have lost their jobs as economic activities ground to a halt. The place I currently work was not an exception. Massive layoffs would have happened in my office had the shareholders have enough money to properly compensate their workers.

It was an obviously eye-opening experience to calculate my own severance pay and make sure I could survive on that for as long as possible. The prospect of losing your income during the pandemic –which should be that particular time for anyone to hold on to their what-ifs money– was really awful.

This is the paragraph where I say that I wish nothing but the best for those who left the company simply because they deserve nothing less than that.

But there was another reason why I signed up for a help from professional therapist last year. In the latter part of last year, things got very, very grim. At the risk of oversimplification, let’s just say that I was unable to express my feelings properly to a girl that I really liked, right at the most critical moment when probably both of us needed support from each other. She eventually left with another guy.

Days before that fateful event happened, I was quietly bearing my own burden. After years of convincing myself that I was okay, I was, in fact, not okay, at least mentally. Years of trauma have caught up. It’s too personal to even spell that out here but I`ll just quote this Youtuber just to describe a fitting metaphor. 

“You see, human identity is like a house of card. One that’s always expanding. A story that is ever developing and always referred back to because every memory becomes a new card. Trauma is when a card doesn’t fit because the experience itself is so painful that it’s incompatible with everything else and if you become obsessed with making it fit the whole house of cards can fall apart and you lose the confidence to build anything new.”

Basically, my house of cards came crashing down, hard. At a time, it reduced me into this insecure soul who were unsure that people will accept me for who I was.

The last time I felt this way was a couple years back when my parent’s divorce was formalized. A girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend at that time too. Apparently, the universe has a cruel sense of timing to combine existential crisis with a relationship one.

The road to recovery was rocky, to say the least. I know something fundamental must be addressed, hence the therapy session.

I`m grateful for the company of my friends, either offline or online. (yes, I had become quite loose in terms of isolation because I know I had to prioritize my mental health; COVID-19 be damned). I`m also glad to say that because I talked with my friends about this issue, some of them were also encouraged to seek professional help.

At the height of my despair, I watched La Grande Bellezza (probably for a half a dozen time already) again and found this quote, spoken by the protagonist Jep Gambardella:

“We’re all on the brink of despair. We can only look each other in the face, keep each other company, kid each other a bit. Don’t you agree?”

Someone was kind enough to upload the entire scene on Youtube.

I decided that all bets are off, so I purchased books, many of which had been on my to-read list for years because I know I`ll have to read it when I search for a catharsis. That was how I finally read the Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, from which I managed to understand what he meant by the absurdities of life. Into the Wild, excellently written by Jon Krakauer, broke my heart too because of Chris Mccandles’ tales somehow mimicked my own, minus the grand adventure part. I finally read Alan Watts too, from whom I learned that efforts to avoid from pain is painful in itself.

And music, a constant part of my life as I know it, helps too. I was saved because Fleet Foxes released a life-affirming record that fittingly spoke about relief, gratitude, and seasonal rebirth. During the darkest days I was just alone with my guitar in my room, terribly singing out the words that these musicians carved out of their soul to release my emotional burden. I was particularly grateful for being reminded time and again that “no one gets it right” but “we’re all supposed to try”.

I made a playlist containing songs that for me served as a reminder to be gentle for myself. You can check that here.

All of that was a roundabout way to say that I indeed, was able to go out amid the pandemic. On one afternoon I just said fuck it, I need to go out and see things. That led me to a weekly socially-distanced walk around the neighborhood, which was therapeutic in itself because the walks allowed me to be fully present and be sensitive to the sights and sounds and smells around me. Nothing is more liberating that allowing your feet to go where it you to go.

I don’t have the full answers yet, but as I wrote his essay, I`m glad to be able to say that I have rebuild my house of cards, with some of the bad cards included as well. It was quite a bumpy ride but when I looked back, this particular tweet was eerily prescient because it rings true today as was the day I tweeted it.

But I walked away from the depths of that bottomless pit not only with knowledge, but also of understanding the parts that made me who I am. I`m also humbled after I saw the abyss for the second time because it suggests that there might be another time when I found myself on the edge of despair.

I`ll never forget the fact that these hard-won lessons came on the back of years of pain, grief and suffering. But it also came on the heels of moments of simple walk in the setting sun and feeling the breeze on the beach too. In fact, I have made it my mission going forward to acknowledge both good and bad things as they are. Because forcing yourself to remember all the bright things when you were in the dark, and vice versa, is a form of self-torture. I hope this essay somehow do that mission justice.

I have said goodbyes to many things in life as the crisis comes and goes, but 2020 goodbyes were simply different. So much so that I thought I have a PhD in letting go already, however absurd that idea is.

#age #birthday #essay