#so this was the hottest moment of the entire expansion

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Just Breathe: The Dinosaur Diaries✨

✨Part 1: Introductions✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: One of my favorite things is writing about the first time Joel and reader meet, so this is how their story starts off 💚

Chapter Summary: It’s your first day at Sauros Corporation as a research assistant, but what you don’t know is you’ll be working under one of the hottest paleontologists that you’ve ever laid eyes on. Can you keep your wits about yourself, or will you fall fast for your smooth talking boss?

Pairing: paleontologist! Joel x fem researcher! reader

Word Count: 3k

Rating: 18+

Chapter Tags: Reader starts her first day as a research assistant, feelings, Joel being a casual flirt, Joel in a lab coat and glasses, mentions of Jurassic Park, allusions to smut, eventual smut, Joel is so broad, Jurassic Park au, science terminology I had to look up

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your palms sweat as you enter the intimidating glass building of Sauros Corporation. One of the biggest, most well known science businesses that specializes in paleontology. What you got your master’s in. You strive to continue on to get your PhD, but first you need to get a little work experience. So that’s why you’re here in this massive corporation that might just eat you alive. 

   Your black heels click against the polished white tile as fluorescent lights reflect off the cascading glass windows. You pull at your pressed pink dress and flex your fingers around the soft cotton as nerves rush down your body. Today was the most important day of your life. A gateway to your future, your dream job that you’ve wanted for your entire life. This was it. It was finally here. 

   When you walk up to the pearlescent marble front counter, a bubbly blonde girl smiles and stands from her office chair. “Hi there. How can I help you?”

   You show her your work ID badge that you had gotten in orientation and respond, “This is my first day here. I’m here for…”

   Her eyes brighten the moment she sees your name on the shiny badge. “Oh! You’re the new research assistant. Doctor Miller has been so eager to meet you! Your interviewer, Kylie, couldn’t stop talking about you to him. He’s already spoken so highly of you. He looked at your resume and everything,” she gushes as she comes around the bright desk and smoothes her pencil skirt down. 

   “He’s talked about me? Who is Doctor Miller?” you ask as you knit your eyebrows together and step back as she passes in front of you. You knew of Doctor Kepler, who you thought you’d be working under. But Doctor Miller? You never heard of him before, at least you don’t think.

   “He’s who you’ll be working under,” she smiles warmly as she nods her head and signals for you to follow behind as her blonde hair bounces down her shoulders. “He’s our best scientist in the department, I’m sure you’ll love him.”

   “How long has he been working here?” you ask as you pass through the lavish halls that are covered in glass framed pictures of dinosaur bones and biology cells. 

   “Over five years, he’s the best of the best. If you want to be a great scientist then he’s the perfect one to practice under. And you’re so lucky,” she beams as she looks back at you with big crimson lips.

   “Why’s that?” you laugh as the click of heels echo down the lit up halls.

   “Because,” she stops before entering the pad locked doors where only authorized personnel can get through, “he’s ridiculously good looking, but don’t tell him I said that.” She winks at you before turning to the glowing padlock.

   Just what were you getting yourself into? Doctor Miller? Was he really all she talked him up to be? And was he really impressed by your resume and talks of your interview? Guess you’d find out. 

   She scans her badge and with a click of the door, they part open as she pushes herself through the strong metal doors. Your eyes scan over the expansive lab as your breath hitches in your throat. The lab is absolutely enormous. Colorful test tubes fill various racks on the metal shelves along the cream colored walls. Microscopes line the tables that fill the center of the room. Petri dishes with different organisms in them sit in glass refrigerators, sturdy dinosaur bones sit displayed in glass cases, and expensive scientific materials cover the room. It’s all intimidating as you step through your new work space. 

   “Right over here,” she smiles as she leads you to the middle of the room where two men stand around a fluorescence microscope. 

   Your eyes peel over the tall man that adjusts the lense while he talks confidently to his coworker. You listen as his deep voice carries through the room. “There we go. Think I got it just right this time. The edges are perfect, can actually see the cementum where those tiny black dots are. Fascinatin’,” he says in awe as he adjusts the microscope lense again to get a better look. 

   You study the man in front of you, watching the way his broad shoulders shift everytime he moves his arms. The white lab coat seems to cling to large muscles. He’s so very large and tall, very tall. Standing just above six feet. And his hands. Big, thick hands of a paleontologist for sure. 

   Just when you start to get lost in his words, the girl who had brought you back into the room interrupts their conversation. She clears her voice and steps forward as platinum blonde hair swishes behind her shoulders. “Doctor Miller? Sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone here to meet you.”

   He turns quickly and adjusts his thick, rimmed glasses against his curved nose and smiles gently. You suck in a breath when you see his face, his smile, his eyes. He’s so gorgeous that you think you might fall over and knock a bunch of expensive lab equipment over. 

   He has the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes that you’ve ever seen before. His hair is tousled, curls spilling onto his forehead, dark brown with strings of grey twisting around each strand. His facial hair looks soft to the touch, salt-and-pepper scruff patching along his sharp jawline. And his smile. God, his smile. It’s so gentle and bright that it lights a fire inside your core. And he’s so broad. Strong muscles pulling against the white lab coat that clings to tanned skin. He’s the hottest scientist you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’re working under him?!

   “Oh, you must be my new research assistant, yeah?” he asks as he smiles gently and says your name, pushing himself off the metal table as he starts making his way over to you. You feel like you’re about to topple over at any moment. 

   “That’s me,” you say shyly as you push a lock of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you wish you wouldn’t do. 

   “Well, so nice to meet you,” he drawls, a Southern accent that rings through your ears like a sweet melody that was made just for you. He sticks his arm out and opens his palm for you to take. You automatically reach out to shake his hand, your own hand shaking as you’re completely intimidated by the hot scientist that stands in front of you. 

   When he clasps his fingers over yours and squeezes, you gulp as you look up into beautiful honey glazed eyes. Eyes that you could wade in and get lost in. His hands are so big, calloused fingers grazing against yours as you feel nerves pulling at every fiber in your body. He probably does a lot with those hands. Hands of an experienced, successful, gorgeous paleontologist. 

   “It’s nice to meet you, too, Doctor Miller,” you say in a daze.

   “Jus’ Joel is fine. You don’t have to call me Doctor Miller, unless you want to,” he mutters softly. 

   “Oh okay, Joel…” you answer barely above a whisper, your palm sweating from how close he is. 

   He lets his hand linger in yours for a few seconds too long, and you swear he’s staring deep into your eyes as you see the glint of a sparkle flash in the flecks of light brown. When he releases his grip, he runs a hand slowly through his tousled, thick curls and just for that moment you wonder what it’d be like to be underneath his large body, running your own fingers through messy, soft curls…

   “I took a look at your resume the other day. I was quite impressed by what I saw.”

   Your eyes go a little wide at what he just said. “Impressed? Of me?” you ask, floored by the obvious compliment. He was impressed with you? 

   “Mhm,” he smiles as he pulls at the sleeves of his pristine lab coat, “straight A student, top of your class? And you went to the dig site in Montana to do some research last summer? Very impressive.” 

   He stares at you a moment with one eyebrow cocked up, his eyes flicking over your figure as you swear he checks you out. Your cheeks burn red as he looks so intently at you, and it’s in that moment that you don’t know how you’ll ever work with this man. He’s so distracting, all you want to do is get lost in those syrupy brown eyes. 

   “I umm... I’m not that impressive,” you say shyly as you look nervously up at him. 

   “Oh, but you are. M’sorry if you were lookin’ forward to workin’ with Doctor Kepler, but I kinda convinced him to let me take you under my wing instead. Yours was the most impressive resume of them all, and trust me when I say I read them all.”

   “Oh.” Your eyes widen and every bone in your body stiffens as you take in what he just said. He thinks you’re smart? He wanted you to work under him. Oh, fuck. “No, I… I’m sure I’ll enjoy you just as much as I would him.” Your cheeks glow red as you turn your head when you hear him chuckling under his breath. Did you really just say that out loud? Christ. 

   “C’mere. Wanna show you somethin’.” He nods his head as a tousled curl bounces against the side of his forehead, and you follow him over to the table that has the microscope all set up with a tiny fossil underneath. 

   “Go ahead,” he says with a nod to his head, asking you to look through the ocular lense. 

   You nervously walk up and dip your head down as you close one eye and focus intently on the fossil that sits beneath the lense. You take in the yellow tint of the amber, examine each particle that makes up the masterpiece of what sits beneath you, study exactly what you think it is. 

   Joel’s honeydew voice comes out deep and raspy as it stirs you to jump in your skin. “Let me pick your brain a minute. I wanna know if you can figure out what fossil that right there is,” he says as he comes to stand right beside you. 

   His hand presses against the base of the microscope, and you feel his warm breath run down the side of your neck. You can feel his body heat reverberate against yours as you start to breathe faster. Your mind is a blur as his body weight shifts against the counter, his lab coat brushing against the side of your arm as you hold tight to the tube of the microscope. It’s so hard to focus on what’s in front of you when his large, all consuming presence is right next to you. He’s not even touching you, and you’re already all worked up, and you know your thighs are sticky from sweat. What the hell is wrong with you?

   “Hmm, let me think a minute,” you say as you try to depict what sits in front of you. You squint your eye as you try to register what sits underneath the glow of the fossil. There’s a small beak-like impression as you assess dark lines that almost looks like a hummingbird.

   “It almost looks like… wait, maybe if I can get a closer look I can see,” you murmur as you continue to assess the shiny fossil. 

   “Here, let me jus’ fix this.” His large hand comes to sit on your shoulder as he pushes you carefully away from the eyepiece. His patchy scruff brushes against the side of your cheek, and you gasp at how close he is to you. You feel tension in your shoulders as you watch him adjust the dials to the right on the lense as he carefully looks through with one eye closed. 

   You watch him with bated breath, your eyes lock on his broad figure, thick fingers brushing against the crevice of the lense. You wonder what it’d feel like to be pinned underneath those strong arms, his thick fingers exploring every inch of your sweltering skin as he consumes you with the entirety of his mouth. 

   Fuck. This man is your boss, you can’t be having wet fantasies about him. He’s off limits, it can’t happen. You need to be professional, but why is it so hard to clear your clouded mind? He’s good looking, smart, nice. That does not give you the right to fantasize about him. Get a fucking grip on yourself for Christ’s sake. Enough. 

   “Ahh there we go. Go on now, take another peek.” He places his hand gently over the small of your back and pushes you forward as your breath hitches at the hand that burns through your dress and goes straight down to your skin that’s tingling from him. 

   You shake your head and get yourself composed as you lower your head and focus back on the fossil that’s waiting for you to examine. Your eyes widen as you see so much more clearly, the bright light shining straight through the yellow glow of the fossil as you can see exactly what’s in front of you now. 

   You gasp as you realize what it is. “No way! Is that an Oculudentavis? The smallest dinosaur to ever walk the planet?” You hear him chuckle and look up to see him smiling down at you. 

   “Very good,” he smiles as he gives you another once over glance, making your heart thump loudly in your chest as his honey eyes slip over you. “Now, how did you know that?” he asks curiously as he ticks his jaw and cocks an eyebrow up.

   “I read a lot,” you shrug as you bite your lower lip. His eyes drop down to your glossy lips, and it makes you burn with need. Focus. 

   “Yeah, I’m sure ya do,” he chuckles as he leans against the table and crosses his arms over his broad chest. 

   “How old is this fossil?” you ask wondrously as your eyes flick back to the ancient fossil. 

   “Over fifty million years old,” he replies as his eyes weigh carefully on you. “Y’know, it’s not really a bird like everyone suspected it to be. It’s actually a genus of a lizard.”

   “Fascinating,” you say dreamily as you lean up against the table and bump the side of your hip as your eyes train solely on him. 

   “It came from the domain Eukaryota, and the phylum it belongs to is Chordata. Funny how the Latin words revolve around a bird when really it’s a reptile. Some scientists even argue whether it was really a dinosaur or just a large lizard. But if you wanna hear my voice on the matter, I say it was a dinosaur.” He winks at you, and you feel your cheeks flush crimson again as you slip another lock of hair behind your ear and clear your throat before you decide to be a complete puddle on the floor. 

   “Think you’re right, Doctor Miller,” you respond shakily. 

   “Jus’ Joel, darlin’.”

   Darlin’? Christ, a pet name? Or maybe it was just his Southern hospitality. But whatever it was made you weak at the knees. 

   “Joel…” you repeat, letting the name slip against your tongue as you swallow all feelings of want and desire down your throat. You are not falling for your boss. 

   “Attagirl,” he smirks. 

   Fuck. 

   “So, you want to be a real paleontologist?” he asks as his eyes flicker down to yours.

   “Mhm,” you nod as you shift your weight in your heels.

   “So tell me, how do you feel about real dinosaurs?” he asks as he shifts his weight to stand in front of you, his arms still crossed tight against the fabric of the button-up green flannel underneath his lab coat. 

   “Real dinosaurs?” you question as you knit your eyebrows together and try to decipher his question. 

   “That’s right. Real dinosaurs.” He smirks and the glisten in his chocolate coated eyes are pressing into yours like he knows something you don’t, and he’s chuckling about it in front of your face. 

   “Ummm I mean, I’m in the field trying to study them. I’d say I love them?” Your answer is hesitant as you still question him. What does he mean real dinosaurs?

   “Well, guess it’s your lucky day cause your first assignment is about Stegosauruses.”

   Your eyes shift to his as yours widen just a smidge. “What’s the assignment about?” 

   “Guess you’ll find out when we get there,” he chuckles as he adjusts his glasses and moves just enough to brush his arm against yours. You step out of the danger zone and pull yourself together instead of staring down into forearms that are filled with thick, twisting veins against tanned skin. 

   “Get where?” you ask carefully as you slide your tongue against the bottom of your teeth. 

   “To Jurassic Park. Home of the dinosaurs. Real dinosaurs,” he smirks as you see trouble brewing in those dark eyes of his. He’s going to get you into trouble with those honey eyes and sly smirk, you just know it. 

   “Real dinosaurs? But they’re… they’re extinct,” you whisper as you raise your eyebrows in question.

   “Not at Jurassic Park they’re not,” he teases as he crosses his arms again. You just stare speechless at him as you get the feeling this man would never lie to you. 

   “So, how ‘bout it? My new research partner wanna go on a little adventure with me? Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” he smirks as you taste trouble on just his words alone.

   And that’s where the adventure started, right there in his gigantic lab. Right when you saw those gorgeous brown eyes. You knew. This is where it’d all begin. 

Tags: @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @mountainsandmayhem @littlevenicebitch69 @vivian-pascal @pedrostories @survivingandenduring @msjarvis @syd-djarin @mothandpidgeon @eugenedream @cozylittlepigeon @marvlstark @rav3n-pascal22

Please consider reblogging or leaving me a comment if you enjoyed. Reblogging is the only way for our work to reach others 🩷

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[too-destiny-panda]

Wyllvember Day 2: Wyll and Tav/The Devil

A/N:This time I switched Day 3 and Day 2 of @sagscrib 's prompt list to better fit the Wyllweek one by @commander-yinello. Hopefully you guys enjoy and thank you for the feedback on the first one, it warmed my heart that I haven't lost my touch as much as I thought:)

This would have been much, much longer than it already is, but I figured there would be another time for me to elaborate on this relationship. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

WC:820

Ah, how quickly one’s fate can change. Be it through physical or mental changes, it truly puts into perspective how flitting one’s sense of self is in the grand scheme of things. Our minds and bodies ever aging, ever changing. A small cut from a stray cat and your appearance is altered, no matter how small or unperceivable that change may be. The only exception to this is the celestial, fey and fiendish beings, perhaps, and even then, they may pick and choose how to manifest themselves to the mortal eye. And if a mortal soul does indeed at some point decide to drastically change their physiology, be it a druid using their wild shape or a bard deciding that their hair needs a different hue, they do so mostly willingly, and the majority of the time, the change is temporary. Not all are so lucky.

When Mizora enacted her punishment for the breaching of her contract (because it is her contract, no matter how technical one gets), she dragged Wyll Ravengard through the burning river Styx, through the hottest hellfire, and turned him into a devil. Gone was his warm brown eye, replaced by a pool of blood red in a black expanse. His neck was forced to begin to adjust to the curved horns now framing his head like a twisted halo as ridges grew into, and on, his skin, his tongue dividing, ears elongating and nails growing into claws. Where once stood the human Blade of Frontiers, the beloved folk hero, was now unrecognizable to many of his admirers as they cowered at the sight of a devil, crying for their hero to save them from himself.

Such trauma is impossible to overlook. A change so drastic, so shocking, and yet it happened in just a few moments. His entire body changed into one so foreign he almost wanted to believe it to be a bad dream were it not for the weight on his head and the occasional glances from camp members as well as the stares of anyone they met. It is no wonder that the Blade avoided mirrors, for a long while, despite the assurances from their leader and a few others that he was still the handsome Wyll they all knew. It was still too overwhelming, and despite being assured in his choice, having no regrets, it was not something he liked or wanted to think about.

Which is how he found himself alone, with a goblet for company as cheers and laughter, and some singing, rang through the air at the party behind him. He couldn’t bring himself to join them, to walk into that space and bear witness to how conversations turn hushed, and laughter quietens at the sight of him. As the Tieflings, despite knowing it’s just him, feel instinctual fear, drilled into them from Avernus as they regard a devil. So, he doesn’t, choosing instead to spend a night meant for revery in the pits of self-reflection.

When Tav had joined him, he felt both a sense of relief and guilt. Relief that he was sought out, that someone cared, and guilt that his choices were pulling them from a celebration of their victory. As he listed all the reasons why he shouldn’t be seen, they listened patiently, offering soft counterpoints and comforting words where they were needed. He truly believed this night was as good as it could get when they asked if they could kiss him. Their words and facial features feigned confidence as their eyes betrayed fear and anticipation, the corner of their lips twitching in anxiety where they formed a small smile. And he meant to refuse, he should have refused, but he just couldn’t. Not when they looked at him with such sincerity and bashfulness that was beginning to turn into embarrassment and regret as his silence extended for longer than he meant it to. And so, he conceded, deciding that this couldn’t be considered selfishness on his par if they offered, as he leaned in to bestow one single kiss upon their mouth. And oh, what a good decision that was.

Their lips were soft and pillowy. Tav’s kiss was tender, uncertain, as if they didn’t really know what they were doing, but he attributed it to nerves and rustiness. When their fingertips carefully brushed the underside of his jaw, he forced himself to pull away, to put some kind of distance between the two of them, before he wouldn’t have been able to stop. Their giddy smile, heated cheeks and starry eyes made him almost regret that choice, but as they parted ways, both leaving the other some space for their thoughts, he knew there would be a better fitted time for them.

And as he laid down for the night, his dreams already drifting towards the person of his developing affection, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of dancer they were.

#blue writes #blue's ocs #bg3 wyll #wyllweek #wyllvember #wyll ravengard #wyll x tav

[socialwicked]

In Africa, Kenyan startups have so far recorded highest funding growth this year – TechCrunch

Kenyan startups lifted virtually just one billion pounds in the first half of 2022, surpassing what the place raised in the entire of 2021. Information reveals that, of the significant four in Africa – the quartet that incorporates Nigeria, Egypt and South Africa, and which receives most VC funding in the continent – Kenya has so considerably confirmed the biggest advancement in funding received this yr.

 This is immediately after the East African place, as a result of 76 bargains, lifted $820 million in the initial 50 percent of the calendar year, according to the Huge Deal database. This is nearly double the funding secured by the country’s startups last calendar year.

 The Huge Deal’s 2021 report, areas the funding secured by Kenya very last calendar year at $411 million whilst Partech details states the place raised $571 million. On equally accounts, Kenya held the fourth position in Africa in terms of funding gained.

 Even so, the hottest Major Deal information, which only will take into account offers that have been manufactured public, exhibits that the state is at the moment next following Nigeria, which has so significantly signed 160 deals, attracting $864 million in VC funding. As the prime VC financial commitment location in Africa very last year, Nigeria raised approximately $1.8 billion, which is triple the funding Kenya secured.

 Egypt and South Africa are 3rd and fourth, possessing elevated $538 million (71 discounts) and $392 million (53 deals), respectively. Facts from varying resources reveals that South Africa raised about $900 million as Egypt secured $600 million last calendar year.

 The quartet accounted for 87% of the funding lifted, in Africa, in the 1st fifty percent of this 12 months.

  Mega Discounts in Kenya 

 Kenya’s growth in VC funding was buoyed by an increase in the quantity of promotions and mega rounds – which are offers that are equivalent to or exceed $100 million. Two notable mega rounds that took place by the near of June in Kenya are  Sunlight King’s $260 million series D funding , and  Wasoko’s $125 million series B funding . Sunlight King is a photo voltaic service provider with operations throughout Africa and Asia, though Wasoko is a B2B retail and e-commerce platform.

 Kenya’s expansion is noteworthy presented that it is soaring at a time when undertaking money funding carries on to slow down across the world.

 On the other hand, Kenya’s elevated deal flow is indicative of the growing VC funding in Africa. The Massive Deal’s info exhibits that Africa experienced by the end of June lifted $3 billion, doubling what it had lifted in the very same period previous 12 months – despite this remaining a fall in the ocean when as opposed to other areas across the globe.

 “If we search at the 12 months on yr (YoY) evolution of quarterly funding (comparing Q2 2022 to Q2 2021), Africa is basically the only area that continued increasing YoY,” stated Max Cuvellier, of The Huge Offer in a  submit  about funding in Africa.

 Fintechs go on to bring in the most funding in the continent. Africa is regarded as the world’s next-swiftest increasing payments and banking market right after Latin The us, according to  this  McKinsey review.

https://socialwicked.com/in-africa-kenyan-startups-have-so-far-recorded-highest-funding-growth-this-year-techcrunch/

[stagevalencia7]

Chloé Replica Tasche Vintage Geldbörse Classic Chloe

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[starrysnowdrop]

G’raha Tia in full Crystal Exarch Mode

FFXIV Endwalker

#ffxiv endwalker #endwalker spoilers #6.0 spoilers #g’raha tia #graha tia #thavnair #radz at han #so this was the hottest moment of the entire expansion #hands down #raha being a dom is so fucking sexy omg #all queued up

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐶𝑂𝐷𝐸 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸

𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: Unprotected sex, spanking, shower sex, rough sex, hair pulling, handjob, choking, PWP (porn with a very little plot... wait who am I lying to? It’s porn.) 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝘿𝙉𝙄!

For my sake, your sake, your mom’s sake and for the betterment of the entire world, if you are a minor, please do not read this!🔞

Beta’d by the wonderful @lex-the-flex But all mistakes are mine

This is my first time writing smut, so please be kind 🥺 It’s filth... absolutely filth, even I can’t believe I’ve written this 🤦🏽‍♀️ I hope to god my mom never finds this and Marvel is probably gonna sue me for writing this.

“Steve!”

You exclaimed as he shut the door right in front of your face. Closing your eyes, you pressed your face to the door and sighed. You wanted to bang the door until he opened and explain Steve that all you did was your job. But you didn’t, instead you went to your own room next door and sulked.

You and Steve were on a mission to take down a hydra base. For the first few days, all you both did was map out the building. Once sure enough of your plans, you had finally breached it this morning.

In the beginning everything was just as expected. But then during the fight, you had spotted a man aiming his gun at an unaware Steve and like the love crazed woman you were, you shielded Steve with your own body.

Gladly Steve realised it before the damage was done and quickly held the shield in front of your both, deflecting the bullet. At your stunt, he had clenched his jaw and given an angry glare to you and had resumed fighting.

You had thought that was the extent of his anger at your carelessness, but apparently you were wrong. Steve hadn’t spoken a word to you after that. He had been silent throughout the entire ride to the hotel.

As he kept on fuming with unspoken anger, you tried your best to mend the situation by repeatedly calling out his name and talking about random things to yourself.

You actually didn’t know why he was angry. Agreed it was a stupid decision to be standing in front of a bullet, but you did it to save your teammate, at least that’s what you justified it with.

The truth was you were hopelessly in love with Steve Rogers. Soon after you had joined the avengers, you and Steve had become best friends. You hadn’t even planned on befriending him, forget about falling in love.

But with all his charm and naivety it was impossible not to fall for him. Not to mention his godly body. With the way he sometimes got flustered in front of you, you thought he felt something for you too, but you canceled it down by calling it wishful thinking.

While you both shared all your problems and worries with each other, you kept your emotions under wraps.

When you had seen the man aim his gun at Steve, your heart had literally stopped beating. The thought of living in a world without Steve in it was much more harrowing than your own death. So you did what you had to.

But now his silence was speaking louder than his words. It wouldn’t have felt this bad if he had scolded you or given you one of his long boring lectures, but this tactic of not talking with you was hurting you much worse.

The entire time you stripped out of your Kevlar suit and bathed, your mind was occupied by Steve’s silence. No matter how much you thought, you still couldn’t understand what had made him so mad.

After all, signing up with the avengers meant you would get into fights and get injured. The mantle of being an avenger came with a few broken bones.

And you weren’t the first to make such risky decisions during a mission, there had been many before you and there would be many after. So what was all this fuss about?

As you were pacing around your room, chewing your bottom lip, you stopped suddenly and took in a sharp breath. You couldn’t go back with this mess. Whatever it was, you had to sort it out and for that you needed to talk.

Deciding that it was now or never, you stepped out of your room and stood in front of Steve’s. You placed your ear on the door to check for any activity but there was none. You hoped to god he hadn’t fallen asleep.

Gathering all the strength you had, you knocked on the door, once, twice... thrice. But there was still no response. This had your mental alarms ringing. Steve sure wouldn’t ignore you this much, what if he was in danger?

Thinking of the worst case scenario, you crouched down and started picking the lock with your hair pin. As you opened the door and entered the room, you finally heard the noise of cascading water.

You huffed out a breath of relief. All this time he was just taking a shower and you thought about the possibilities of him getting murdered; you sure were an over thinker.

You didn’t know why but your feet weren’t retreating from the room. The sane part of your brain was telling you to go and come back later. And yet you stood awkwardly straight in the middle of his room.

You didn’t know how it happened, you swear to god didn’t realise. But all of a sudden you were standing in front of the bathroom door. You were burning with warmth from head to toe and you could listen to your heart beat in your ear.

Placing one hand on the door and the other on the knob, you tried to think for a moment. But somehow, your brain couldn’t process anything, except Steve. You slowly turned the knob and the door creaked open.

If Steve asked you what you were doing, which he definitely was going to, you would answer that you were sleepwalking or maybe you were possessed by a horny ghost. You wondered which one was more plausible.

The sight which greeted you was better than any you had ever seen. Steve was standing with his broad back facing you, glistening under the trickling water droplets.

His muscled expanse was stretched out magnificently under the shower, the water making rivulets into the grooves of his chiseled back. He straightened visibly under your watchful eye as he became aware of your entrance.

You waited for his scolding as you nibbled your bottom lip. You waited for him to tell you how immoral and indecent this was. You waited for him to fire you on the spot.

But nothing came from his side except strained breaths. It was as if he was doing some physical exertion by standing ramrod straight. As he tensed, his back muscles flexed even more and you wanted nothing more than to lick up the water drops.

Your mouth had fallen open and you were already panting and his body wasn’t the only thing wet. Seeing that he was neither bursting with anger nor reprimanding you for your actions, you decided to let your eyes wander further.

Your body lit itself on fire the moment you eyed his sculpted glutes. It was definitely, undoubtedly America’s ass. God, the things you wanted to do to him and the things you’d let him do to you.

You looked up to see Steve had turned his head a little and was staring at you through the corner of his eye. Taking that as a hint, you walked further until you were inside the shower.

The water seeped through your clothes as you stood right behind Steve. You were so close that the only thing in front of your eyes was his broad back. Yet he didn’t turn to face you.

Your hand shivered despite the warm water as you touched his back. That simple contact passed an electric current through Steve and you could hear his audible gasp.

Keeping one hand on his back, you moved your dominant hand further onto his chest. After palming his abs for sometime, you snaked your hand further down.

But before you could reach your destination, a strong hand curled around your wrist, limiting your movements. “Don’t.” It was the first word he had said to you after the mission.

His voice was hoarse and deep and you wondered if it was possible for you to come just with his voice. “But what if I want to?” You really were possessed, because you definitely didn’t have this much confidence.

Unexpectedly, your defiance worked and he loosened his hold, though he didn’t remove his hand. When you finally touched his warm cock, which was standing hard proudly, you moaned and buried your face into his back.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed as you rubbed him. You had heard him cursing a few times before, but listening to it now just melted you into a puddle. You pressed your face further into his back as you kept palming him, his hand was still on your wrist as a reminder, though he wasn’t guiding your movements.

You wondered how he would fit inside you, as you were barely able to curl your hand around his massive length. One second you were jerking him off and the next you were pinned to the wall, facing him. You blinked rapidly to steady your senses.

The hand he had used to pull you forward was now held against the wall and you had placed the other on his chest. His entire body was blushing hard and his face was just as flustered as yours.

Steve placed his hand gently on your cheek, a stark contrast to his previous actions. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips as first but he didn’t go any further.

Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stared at him in confusion. Noticing the question on his face, you realised he was asking for permission. Nodding your head rapidly, you replied with a breathy yes.

That’s all it took for him to smash his face into yours. His kiss wasn’t a perfect or a practiced one, but what he lacked in experience, he made it up with his passion and edge.

You were actually tongue fucking each other and you didn’t regret a moment. You were close to eating each other’s faces off when you finally parted.

You panted and arched your back, exposing your neck as he sucked down your jaw to your neck. Without giving you a moment to gather yourself, he tore your tank top right through the middle.

And the only thing your mushy brain capable of saying was, “Holy shit.” It was the hottest thing you had ever seen. The way his arms flexed as he tore the fabric made you gush.

He discarded the now useless tank top carelessly on the floor and bent down to suck your nipples. You were about to go to sleep and thus weren’t wearing any bra. You let out an unholy moan at the sensation and the sight of him suckling you.

You carded your hands through his hair only for him to take your hands and pin them back to the wall. “Oh Steve.” As you moaned his name, he looked up at you through his lustrous blue eyes.

All of a sudden he let go of your hands and nipple and as you whimpered in dissatisfaction, he quickly tugged your pants down. He practically growled at the sight of you naked in front of him.

He placed his hands on your ass as he knead it while simultaneously kissing you stupid. He shifted his hands from your ass to your thighs and in one swift motion picked you up.

You hadn’t ever been picked up by anyone before and for once you were glad that Steve had taken the serum. He carried you out of the shower and into the room.

You were going to complain about how you were going to ruin the carpet with water when he all but gently threw you into the bed, face down.

You gathered yourself on your hands and knees just as he positioned himself behind you. Steve didn’t know what got into him when he saw your ass perched up in the air, but he went absolutely feral.

He wanted to talk and tell you things, but currently he was incapable of doing anything but devour you. He placed his huge palms on your ass and started kneading, but the thing he did next, took you by absolute surprise.

He spanked your ass, hard. At the contact you let out a loud surprised shriek. You had no idea captain America was a kinky little shit, not that you were complaining.

While you were turned on beyond your senses, Steve mistook your surprise for pain. He snapped out of whatever haze had taken over him, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You looked back at Steve with confusion. “God. No. Steve, you didn’t hurt me. I liked it.” You said with such shyness as if you hadn’t just given him a handjob moments ago.

“Do more.” You asked and he delivered. Steve understood that you wanted it rough, and who was he to deny. He spanked your ass thrice more, alternating the cheek, in quick succession, only to rub it gently later.

He kept up with the contrast of quick spanks and gentle kneads until you sobbed with wrecked pleasure and delightful pain.

When you came back from your blissful high, you realised Steve was pressing soft kisses to your back. You strained your neck at an odd angle and pulled Steve in for a kiss.

It was gentle and filled with adoration and love, a great disparity to what just happened. Steve was rutting against your ass as he deepened the kiss.

Parting from the kiss, he took hold of his cock and jerked it a few times before rubbing himself against your drenched folds. You were already so dripping that you didn’t need any extra stimulation.

Finally he pushed in the tip and you moaned like in heat at the sweet pressure. Gladly he gave you a moment before pushing slowly further, inch by inch.

No matter how wet, or in a sex haze you were, you both knew he wasn’t easy to take. All the while, Steve was muttering praises and soft words to you.

When he finally bottomed out, you both moaned out with pleasure. After giving you some time to adjust, he pulled back only to push back in with a measured but powerful thrust.

“Oh fuck!” Overcome with pleasure, you slapped a hand on the headboard to hold yourself steady while you clutched Steve’s ass with the other to hold him as close to you as possible.

He began with slow yet hard thrusts but soon he changed rhythm and started fucking you in earnest. The headboard rattled against the wall as Steve held your shoulder with one hand and supported you both with another placed firmly on the bed.

You had got a hundred dreams about Steve railing the shit out of you. But nothing matched the actual thing.

Steve experimentally wove his fingers through your hair and when you let out something between a moan and a demand for more, he clutched and pulled it tightly making your eyes roll back with euphoria.

“Stevveee, I... Stevie, I’m close,,... oh fuck!” The only thing you could do was moan wantonly and take everything Steve gave you.

Just as Steve felt your walls quivering, he pulled out. He groaned with frustration as you were so so close. But before you could formate any words, he flipped you around.

“I want to watch you as you come for me.” He said bending down to press a kiss. This time, he entered you in one swift motion.

Curling a hand around his neck, you held the head board with other as you arched into his touch. He was grunting loudly and his voice was having more effect than it should have on you.

You were close, so very close, but you needed more, something more. “Steve, choke me.” You whimpered. Steve faltered for a moment before realising what you had said.

When Steve placed his hand delicately on your throat, which you had exposed to him, you knew you were going to have the best orgasm of your life.

Steve squeezed your throat, and at that very second, you orgasmed like never before. Your toes curled and legs shook uncontrollably as you babbled nonsense.

You felt as if you saw the deepest crevices of the universe and snorted the most powerful drug as white pleasure enveloped you.

Steve, in spite of his super soldier stamina, gave in to pleasure as your walls hugged him tight. With a shout, he came deep within you.

After the pleasure faded and the fatigue had set in, you both laid limply within a tangle of limbs and in each other’s embrace.

“Steve.” You croaked as he kept on prepping you with kisses. He only hummed in response. “I love you.” At that the kisses stopped.

You worried if this was the end of everything, but when you looked up in his eyes, you knew it was just the beginning. His eyes were filled with love.

“I love you too.” He smashed your lips once again and you responded just as enthusiastically. “I can’t think of living without you. You mean everything to me.

When I saw you in front of the gun, I was so scared. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to save you.” You caressed his face as you said, “But you did. And I know you always will Steve.”

“That I will.” You knew that Steve would keep you safe. You knew that in his warm embrace, nothing in this world would touch you.

“Steve, if you ever get mad at me, talk to me, scold me, give me on of your boring lectures if you want, but please don’t stop talking to me.”

“If ignoring you is going to lead to this, then I’ll probably give you the silent treatment.” He chuckled as you punched him playfully.

You couldn’t believe you were in love with this goof, or that he was just as in love with you.

#chris evans #mcu #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x reader smut #marvel smut #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #filthy smut #chris evans smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot

[tobesoalive]

Josh Kiszka NSFW Alphabet (Smut Headcanons)

ok....so I've been wanting to do one of these for a while and I may have gotten a little carried away. This is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written, please forgive me. let me know if you guys wanna see more stuff like this, maybe with the other boys? idk anyways enjoy!!

Warnings: Everything....

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Josh likes to stay inside you for a minute after he finishes, either burying his head in the crook of your neck or pressing his forehead to yours. Once you are both ready to part, he immediately goes to get you a glass of water and a warm washcloth to clean you up, making sure you’re doing okay. Sometimes one of you will suggest to clean off in the shower or soak in the bath for a little bit, and the entire time he’ll hold you close and press kisses to your temple, cooing words of praise and telling you how much he loves you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Josh loves his mouth, how it can give you passionate kisses and whisper praises, but also bring you to an orgasm so easily. He loves your hands, the feeling of them roaming the expanse of his skin, how they look wrapped around his cock, and the tingle he gets when you tug his hair and claw his back.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

There is nothing Josh loves more than being buried deep inside you when he cums. He loves the feeling of your walls clenching around him, loves to see his seed leak out of you when he’s pulled out, using his fingers to fuck it back into you. As far as your release goes, what he loves most is feeling you fall apart on his tongue, tasting your release turns him on more than anything.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Every once and a while the thought of you dominating him crosses Josh’s mind, specifically pegging. He had kept his longing a secret for the first year of your relationship but accidentally let it slip one night, but you informed him you’d try it out if he really wanted to. It became an activity you two revisit every couple of months.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The man has some experience under his belt - I mean he is a famous musician - but nothing too crazy. He had about five or six partners before you, but most of his experience he gained with you. Both of you had vastly improved your game over the course of the relationship, and you knew each other’s bodies like they were your own.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Every position quite honestly, but he especially loves when you ride him. It allows him to gaze up at you and get the perfect view of his length going in and out of you, the sight often causing him to throw back his head and let out a throaty moan. Truly Josh loves any position, but especially the ones that allow him to see your face and the expressions you make. He still likes to have you on all fours every so often and also spoon you while lazily pumping in and out of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on the day, but most of the time sex with Josh is light and playful. Giggling is a common occurrence from the both of you during the act, and you will catch Josh with a smile on his face quite often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Josh prefers to keep it natural down there, only trimming every once in a while if things get really out of hand. He has a dark happy trail leading down from his belly button to a lighter patch of brown curls on his pubic bone that surrounds his length. In addition I think Joshua doesn’t really care what his partner decides to do for their grooming, actually I believe he finds it extremely hot if they keep it natural down there because he thinks you were made perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Most of the time he is extremely intimate, only being taken out of the moment if there’s a lot of other stuff on his mind, or if he is particularly stressed, but he is a very romantic and attentive partner for the most part.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Let’s be honest, Josh has a very high sex drive, and that can be a bit of a problem when he’s on tour or when you’re not around. He takes care of himself by thinking of you, porn isn’t really his thing, if he’s gonna have some sort of visual aid it is going to be photos/videos of you, his favorites being intimate polaroids he’s taken of you that he keeps hidden away.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Whooo boy, there are a lot of things this man is into. I’d love to go more into detail on each one of these, so maybe one day I’ll write a piece on these. To name a few, Josh is into hair pulling, light choking, period sex, squirting, mutual masturbation, praise, edging, domination, i really could go on forever.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your shared bedroom is always the top choice, but you guys like to get creative, you’ve done it in the shower, bath, car, backyard, restaurant bathroom, empty field at night, secluded hiking trails, his childhood home, and when you guys are very impatient he’ll bend you over the kitchen counter or prop you up on the arm of the couch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t take much to turn this man on, he’s so insanely in love with you that everything you do gets him going. Sometimes on stage he’ll spot you in the crowd, seeing you dancing and singing every word, that’s something that really gets to him, and it takes everything within him to not run off stage and fuck you right then.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Josh wouldn’t wanna do anything that puts you in pain, he hates seeing you suffer and would never want to do anything that hurt you, no matter if it would feel good for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

There is nothing more beautiful than the face Josh makes when you take him in your mouth. He closes his eyes and leans his head back, grinning with his perfect teeth and sticking just the tip of his tongue out. His moans and words of praise are angelic as well, and the way his soft eyes gaze at you as you swallow his release. As much as he loves your mouth, he prefers to have his on your core. God that man eats your pussy like it’s last meal. Lapping and sucking at your clit, alternating between dipping his fingers and tongue into your tight cunt. He could-and has- cum from just eating you out, it brings him just as much pleasure, and his mouth waters thinking about how good you taste.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s all of it. It depends on what mood you’re in but this man will make slow, passionate love to you in the morning, fuck you fast and rough in the evening and everything in between.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Josh doesn’t mind a good quickie every once in a while. If you have somewhere to be 10 minutes after he gets home from the studio, no problem. Man can make you cum in less than five minutes, and he does not hesitate to demonstrate.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yassss Joshy boy loves to take risks, as long as you’re comfortable. If you propose an idea and it intrigues him, you’ll be trying it within the next five minutes. That’s part of what makes your sex life with Josh so satisfying, you two aren’t afraid to switch things up.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Usually two is where Josh taps out, but sometimes you two decide to stay up all night smoking, talking, cuddling and fucking. Times like those he can go about 4 or 5 rounds. When you two are both home he fucks you at least twice throughout the day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You own a few toys that you both use, together or alone. After he left for tour once Josh bought you a vibrator so you wouldn’t miss him too much. Sometimes he’d pull it out while fucking you, just to hold it on your clit. That usually ended with you making a big mess and Josh being extremely satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Josh likes to tease you a little bit, but he actually enjoys it more when you’re the one teasing him. He likes still being a little submissive.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Much like on stage, Josh is loud in the bedroom as well. Between his throaty moans and grunts, he also is constantly talking to you. He responds to your sounds by saying “Yeah, you like that?” and “tell me how good it feels” and so much other dirty talk because he’s a cocky little shit. He’s also big into praise, whether that be praising you or getting praise himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If there’s one thing that makes Josh feel totally elated, it’s making you squirt. The first time he did it was totally unintentional, he was just eating you out like usual, but his fingers curved a certain way and you bursted. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and he became obsessed with making you do it over, and over, and over again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

This man has a beautiful dick. It’s about 7 ½ - 8 inches long with some nice girth to it. It leans a little to the left and has a nice curve to it, and it has some veins that rub your walls deliciously. He used to be self conscious of his dick but you assured him it was perfect and it never failed to please you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Have you seen how hyper this man is? You briefly mention something or even say the word “sex” in a sentence and his clothes are off.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on the day, but for the most part he likes staying up for a little while to talk with his arms around you, eventually quietly thinking about how lucky he is before drifting off.

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fan fic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine

[eureka-its-zico]

Damage

Request: You meet JB in a bar and have a one-night stand

A/N: My friend has asked me for JB fics none stop. I haven’t been able to finish one, because I get stuck in my head and think everything is trash. I think this one is okay, at best. I’ve edited as much as my eyes can stand. Either way, she seemed to enjoy it. I hope you all enjoy it in some way too. Much Love, Jenn

p.s. It’s named Damage because I literally had the song of the same name from H.E.R playing on repeat the entire time.

Jaebum X Reader

Genre: SmUt

Words:5534

Warnings: semi-public sex, rough play, some ass-slaping - you get the picture -

There was a time that the idea of sleeping with a complete stranger from a bar would’ve never crossed your mind. It wasn’t that you were a prude. A part of you secretly wanted to know what it felt like to be so overwhelmed by another that they made you less cautious and more adventurous. No one ever seemed able to stir that emotion in you, however. 

Until you’d met JB. 

Now, as his fingers traced across your skin, his lips kissed at the hollow of your neck, you couldn’t imagine an alternate universe where you didn’t say yes. Where you weren’t pressed into the backseat of a stuffy cab not caring that you had an audience while JB’s hand made its way between your thighs. His mouth hungrily lapping up your moan as his fingers slid under the edge of your panties. 

A part of you should’ve felt embarrassed. You were passengers in this cab. The obvious audience of the older man up front would’ve normally made you shove his hand away with your cheeks pink; pretending to care if they watched. 

But JB was a force you weren’t used to. One that threatened to consume you and god, did you want to be consumed. 

EARLIER

————————-

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be sad forever about that asshole.” 

Your fingers skimmed the paper of your beer smearing an image of a heart in the condensation. Your teeth drawing in your bottom lip as you thought about what your friend was saying. Of course, she was right. It was two weeks, give or take, since you broke up with Mark. You’d had your days of wallowing, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and crying on the couch watching rom-coms and asking why can’t your life be like this? 

There wasn’t any doubt your ex wasn’t off doing the same. Hell, he’d made sure to take pictures of his latest escapades and made sure to share it to his social media. Not that you were looking at any of it or anything. 

“You’re right,” you huffed out in defeat. 

Why was it so hard to let him go? It wasn’t like he’d had such a hard time deciding to end your relationship. 

“I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say it a little louder for me please I’m hard of hearing.”

You shot her a look of disbelief that sent her head falling back with laughter. 

“This one time you might be a little bit right.”

You took a swig of your drink to hide your own smile. 

“Plus, how can you be sad over that loser when the hottest dude is five feet away.”

You followed her eyes to see what had her making such a bold claim. There were plenty of good looking men and women in the bar. How could one person possibly hold the title when your opinion could be different? 

It wasn’t. 

You found him easily. No longer needing the guide of your friend to find who it was that’d caught her attention. And sweet Jesus he was hands down the best looking in the room. 

He was leaning up against the wall. His eyes half crescent moons as he smiled. One hand holding a beer that was close to his lips as he replied back to whatever his friend said. You shamelessly watched how his lips wrapped around the bottle to take a drink. The sharpness of his jaw and the expanse of his neck. 

You wanted to know what he looked like with his mouth on you and tasting the sweetness between your thighs. 

The desire for it caused your legs to squeeze together to give yourself any sort of friction. Your mind still going over the fantasy you were creating with him in the starring role. Suddenly, he was looking back at you. A harsh blush rose to your cheeks at being caught but refused to look away. 

God! What am I doing?! 

You’ve never been the one to make the first move. Of any kind. Eye contact felt like a first move of showing interest, but you were more than interested and a part of you wondered if he could see it. See that even this far between your spaces in the bar how badly you wanted to know how he tasted. 

A gasp brought your attention back to the position of your friend. Her mouth agape in shock but that threatened to spill into a smile at any moment. 

“Hollleeeeey shit! Did you just give that guy ‘fuck me eyes’ from across the bar?”

You scoffed at the idea before shooting a cautionary look back in his direction. Using your elbows that were on the top of the bar you swiveled yourself to face the many rows of liquor. Fighting the urge to look back at him again or acknowledge your friend bouncing in her seat. 

“Yes you fuckin did!”

Your reply was a quick swig of your drink as you tried your best not to grimace at the taste. You’d been babysitting it too long and now it was lukewarm. 

“I've had my heart broken. I’m not dead,” you replied. 

“Let’s go over and talk to them!”

Your head whipped in her direction so fast you swore you’d ended up with whiplash. Yes, you were looking. And yes, this man did provoke unholy fantasies, but that didn’t mean you were ready to be that close. 

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I think this will be good for you.”

She ignored your burst of panic and waved down the bartender who acknowledged her sooner than you would’ve liked. 

“What can I get you ladies.”

“Two shots of tequila, please.”

“What are you doing?” 

She wiggled her brows at you and rubbed her shoulder up against yours. Her weak attempt to pump you up with excitement for whatever diabolical thing she’d planned. 

“Just a little liquid courage before we head on over.”

“Heading towards the door, you mean.”

Your words came out as a grumble. A pout setting in as the bartender set down the small glasses in front of the two of you. Which she quickly slid hers to click beside yours. 

“You, my lovely friend, are going to have both.”

“Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?”

“Nope. Just trying to help you get some guiltless sex with a stranger.”

“Wow. You’re so amazing,” you deadpanned. Your hand snacking out to grab one of the shot glasses downing the first one. You were sure the reaction you were having looked like a cartoon character. God, this stuff was disgusting. “I’m pretty sure that stuff causes forest fires.” 

The bartender offered you a lemon, amusement flashing in his eyes. You were hoping he could see the thank you in yours with your mouth shoved full of lemon. 

You left it sitting in your mouth; teeth clenched tight against the softness and the peel exposed between your lips. You wondered if this was picture worthy and received your answer moments later when your friends’ camera flashed in your face. Your vision erupting in sparks of dark spots that left you unable to see. 

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

With the peel still held between your lips you made a face at her. Her mouth opened to reply, and suddenly it closed. Her eyes wide and darting from you to whoever was now perched beside you. 

You remembered you still had a shot left and decided it was time to meet your fate. Your legs moved to turn you to sit straight on the stool when you realized someone was beside you at the bar. In perfect horror movie fashion, you glanced at your right and saw the man who’d caused your need for liquid courage. 

He was just there. His body casually leaning against the bar with an air of coolness that didn’t seem forced. He was talking with the bartender. The two of them locked in a conversation like they were old friends and catching up. Maybe they were. 

Up close he was even more striking. His hair was perfectly slicked back to make it appear short, but it was anything but. The gel he’d used was beginning to wear off and displayed hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes. 

You wanted to run your hands through it. To grip it as you rode his tongue. 

It felt like he must have had a sensation of what you were thinking. He ended his conversation and turned to look at you. A spark of laughter lit up the dark brown of his eyes and you swore you were swooning in your chair. 

“I see you must really like lemons.”

Your brow furrowed as you wondered what the hell he could be talking about. He must have caught on to your confusion and patted a single digit against the lemon peel still peaking like a smile between your lips. Your eyes shot wide with horror as you not too gracefully spit it out onto the napkin. 

“Oh...my...god,” you whispered at the wood of the bar. Praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Hi!” Your friend shot an arm over you with her hand extended for him to shake. “My name’s Vanessa. This is my lovely friend, Y/N. The lemon sucker.” 

Your head jerked in her direction and you hoped she could see how much you wish you could hit her. 

The man beside you, however, looked nothing but amused and took Vanessa’s hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at his fingers; the way it practically covered all of hers. 

“Nice to meet you both.”

He released her hand and shocked you by leaving his hand open and waiting for you to take. You glanced up at him and then back down to his hand. You took it without waiting too long, because you didn’t want him to think you were rude, or worse, weirder than he probably already did. The minute your hands folded around the other you swore it was electric. 

“My name’s Jaebum. Everyone calls me JB, for short.” 

Jaebum. JB. You would call him whatever he wanted. His voice was soft as he spoke and forced you to move closer to hear him. You wondered if that’d been his plan. It was the only thing you could think of as his thumb caressed over the knuckles of your hand before he took it away. 

You dropped your hand down to the side of your skirt and fought not to rub it against the fabric. The attraction you felt for JB was something that’d come unexpected and you found yourself inexperienced. It felt overwhelming this need to touch him. To be touched in return. To know how he sounded with your lips wrapped around his cock and those same hands on the back of your head. Bending you over and smacking your ass until it was cherry red. 

You were still staring at each other as these devilish thoughts played out in your head. His eyes roamed your face and you wondered what he saw there. If JB could see the dirty scenarios he held the starring role in. His gaze slid over you from the tips of your toes, over the exposed legs from your skirt, your chest, and back up to your face. 

There was no denying he’d thought of his own scenario with you in mind. His pupils fully blown with lust when he brought his eyes back up to you. Your pulse thudded wildly as you struggled to remember how to properly breathe. 

“Did you girls want to come back over to our table?” The question was meant for both Vanessa and you, but when he asked his gaze never left you. He only looked away to point to his indicated spot. “It’s just me and a couple of my friends. I promise, we aren’t weird or anything.”

A bright smile spread across his lips and if you weren’t swooning earlier, you were definitely doing it now. You were nodding your head yes, unsure if you could trust yourself to talk. Vanessa, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have that issue. 

“That would be amazing and so good for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s very vulnerable.”

Oh. My. God. Was she winking like an idiot? 

You looked back at her and couldn’t keep the horror off of her face. Luckily, JB laughed it off. He reached out to grab the drinks he’d ordered and motioned with his head for you girls to follow. You waited for Vanessa to start forward before you fell into step beside her. Your arm shooting out to wrap itself around hers just so you could use it to pull her in tight. 

“What in the hell was that!?”

“I’m trying to help you here. Most men love the idea of a girl on the rebound.”

“Because they think they’re easy, Nessa.”

“Precisely.” 

She flicked her finger up like she’d just made a great discovery. The only thing she was about to discover was that you were, in fact, desperate but for a whole other reason. 

No part of you could remember your ex looking at JB. And while the idea of any sort of relationship with him, physical or otherwise, made you excited there was still that small voice in your head. The not so fun responsible part of you reminded you that you didn’t know him. He could be a weird pervert or a serial killer. Ninety-nine percent of serial killers were usually attractive. 

You let out a sigh not sure how to tell her nicely to butt out. 

“Just, help me less. Ok?”

She regarded you for a moment. Her arm peeling itself out of yours before bringing you in quickly for a one-armed hug. 

“Alright. Girl Scouts honor I won’t say anything else.”

“Thank you!”

And you meant it. Lord knew she only meant well, but in the end it came off embarrassing. Like the two of you were sixteen and in high school again. With you passing notes to all the boys you liked because you were too damn nervous to say anything to their face. You thought it was romantic. In reality, it just seemed well, kinda awkward. 

The two of you stood beside the pool table and you did your best not to fidget with your bag. The weight of six new sets of eyes made you feel like an animal in a zoo. 

“Guys, this is Vanessa and Y/N. I invited them over to hang out with us. If that’s cool.”

The friends all seemed to go from caution to excitement at seeing you in two point five seconds. All of them agreeing it was cool, and waving you all over to find a chair to sit in. 

You were following Vanessa to seats in between two  of his friends, when a soft hand on your arm stopped you. You knew without looking it was JB. Your body reacting instantly to his touch as if it’d been set on fire. 

“You can sit next to me. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Your voice was breathy. Like you were telling him a secret the two of you only needed to hear. The chair in question that sat beside his own, was inches from him. So close that when you sat down your knees were next one another. 

He regarded you briefly before he turned his attention back to his group. His arm snaking around your chair to rest on its back. You were aware that it was a show of dominance. Of signaling to his friends and anyone else who cared to look that you were his. The thought of it sent a thrill through your body of being claimed. Only wishing he would claim you another way too. 

JB’s group of friends were fun and easy to get a long with. One of them in particular, Hyun-Bae, was incredibly funny. He told stories that were entertaining and knew when to use his humor to make everyone laugh. It was enough to make you almost forget the man beside you. Almost. 

You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between everyone talking, JB’s hand that’d rested comfortably on the back of your chair had moved. His fingers brushed along your skin from your shoulder to collarbone. Each stroke deliberate; sexual and not. Like he could read that you found it comforting but also craved his touch. 

You ached with the urge to kiss him. To taste the liquor on his tongue. All those times you turned to imagine yourself leaning in and doing just that, you’d met his gaze. The two of you shared  a look of knowing and wondered if he’d just been waiting for you to close the last inches of space between you. You were looking at each other now; eyes hungrily glancing at the others lips. 

You wanted to be brave. To just close that space and tell him just to take you home. Screw this dance of cat and mouse. You didn’t want to be chased. You wanted to be owned. 

Instead, a soft, “Excuse me,” came from you as you rose up from your chair. You couldn’t get your  feet to walk fast enough to the bathroom. You were moving so fast you practically took someone out on the way inside. Getting inside the bathroom, you quickly shut the door and turned the lock. 

You were instantly greeted by your reflection in the dirty, marker-ridden, mirror. What you could see of yourself was defeated. A huff of frustration left you as you removed your bag from your shoulder and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Your feet scuffing the ground as you took a somber approach to the sink. 

You told Vanessa you could do this. You didn’t need help to tell a hot guy you wanted him to fuck you until your legs were far past jello and more like liquid. And every time you were given the opportunity to do something at all, you backed out. 

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned in. Examining your makeup and how very un-messy it was. 

“Note to self: just fuckin do it.”

Yup. The greatest of pep talks. 

You weren’t ready to leave the sanctity of the bathroom but a knock sounded on the door. Reminding you very quickly that there were actual people who probably needed to use it. You moved to pick up your bag when another knock came. 

“Yea, yea I’m coming. Chill.”

When you opened the door, however, JB was just there. His body pushing into the bathroom causing you to step back to give him room. He closed the door without looking back. His body fully facing you as the door clicked closed behind him. 

“JB? Sorry I was just using the restroom-”

“Is that what that was? I mostly heard talking; no flushing.”

His lips spread in an amused smile no doubt at your expense. Your eyes were probably as white as the moon. How long had he been waiting out here?

“Sorry. I just got a little impatient waiting for you.”

In one fluid motion, his arm snaked around your back, and brought you to his chest. JB was prepared for you and his other hand was already holding your face giving him the perfect leverage to crash his mouth down on yours. The moment your lips met that electricity you’d felt earlier flared back to life. This time, it flared across your skin and sparked in every spot he touched. 

The kiss started out a brush of lips and soon became more. His tongue danced at the edge of your bottom lip and you gladly opened up to him. Your hands plunging to make a mess of his perfectly gelled hair at the same time his tongue slipped inside your mouth. 

You were eager to respond. Eager to caress his tongue with yours. His mouth tasted of the bittersweet liquor he’d sipped on for the last hour. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to taste yourself on his lips made your body ache to be touched in other places. For your fantasies of his mouth on you to begin here. You didn’t care where. 

JB seemed to understand what you needed. He broke from the kiss fast and turned you around. His body pressed against your back and his hands at the edge of your skirt. You watched in the mirror as he moved your skirt up to your hips exposing your thong to the room. 

He watched you, his lips hovering over your ear before giving it a playful nip, and those same hands were now laced in the strings. JB moved back just enough to squat down so his hands could move them down your legs until he reached your ankles. 

“Step out.”

You followed his command without question. Your head tilting back to watch the little bit of cloth he held in his hand get scrunched up even smaller and placed inside the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and your body froze with anticipation. Whatever he would ask you to do, you knew you would comply. 

“Spread your legs.”

The demand in his voice was feverish. His own need on display as his hand caressed up your calf until it was between your thighs. A finger teasingly moved across your opening, causing a soft gasp to exit from your lips. You did as you were instructed and waited until you heard an approving, “Hm,” from his lips. 

The room swelled as the anticipation grew. The reflection you’d seen moments ago was washed away and the woman who’d taken her place was eager and ready to offer up her own demands. 

JB moved to stand on his feet with his hands traveling along the curve of your legs and up onto your hips. There his fingers dug into the soft flesh as he leaned into your back, his eyes on yours in the mirror, as he spoke into your ear, “Place your hands on the sink.”

“Spank me first.”

A shiver of shock ran through you. You couldn’t believe you’d said it, but after your request had left you, you’d refused to take it back. Your body craved to be reprimanded by his hands and the smirk on his lips told you plainly he was more than happy to oblige. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please spank me. Please, JB.”

His hand curled up to wrap around your throat as his index finger danced at the edge of your lips. 

“How bad do you want it?”

“I want I-“

The smack reverberated like thunder in the small room. The sting was instant and beautiful. The heat between your legs was aching and your ass jetted against his jeans for any kind of friction. JB stepped back, denying you any form of relief, and landed another smack on your exposed cheek. 

This one made your knees wobble as the pleasure rolled through you. Your hands on the sink was the only thing that saved you from showing him what he’d done. 

“You love that don’t you?”

JB already knew you did, but he wanted to hear you. He needed to hear you say how much you loved feeling his hand leaving its mark, red and angry, on your skin. 

“Yes,” you gasped. “It feels so good.” 

He landed another smack and you couldn’t keep yourself quiet anymore. Your moan loud and aching like your pussy. Luckily, his hand was still on your throat and silenced you by placing his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them immediately and this time you could feel JB rut against your ass. The hardness of his cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans gave away just how turned on he was at your bathroom escapades. 

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth and, with the same fingers, slick and wet, placed it between your legs. The two digits moving to slide between your folds. First, scissoring around your clit; caressing the delicate bud until you gave him the moan he worked for. 

When the soft sound left you JB slid them deep inside you causing the noise to become louder. A shudder ran through your body as you backed up into him. 

His fingers removed themselves suddenly, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from escaping you. A whine you were sure sounded like you were close to tears. JB gave your ass another smack and all it did was drive the need inside you closer to madness. 

His hands planted themselves onto your ass and you felt him kneel down. Those two strategically placed hands lifting up the flesh there leaving your pussy exposed and aching in his view. Your hands were gripping the porcelain of the sink so tight you’d thought it’d crack. Your body trembling in anticipation of what he might do and the need to cover yourself up playing tug-of-war in your head. 

The idea of any sort of hiding vanished when his mouth planted itself between your legs. His tongue snaking out to flick across your clit made you back up to greet his mouth. JB quickly took that moment to slide his tongue from clit to ass. The sensation was so foreign and new to you, you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure you got quickly washed the thought away. 

JB gave you no time to pull yourself together. His face was back between your legs with an eager tongue to lick up every last drop. His tongue swirled around your clit and sent light flicks when you were least expecting it. Each time your legs threatened to crumble, but JB held you there with steady hands.

His tongue explored you thoroughly and put to his memory what made your knees weak. What caused a soft mulling sound of need to claw up from your throat. And what caused your grip on the sink to become almost violent. 

Between each languid lick his tongue would find itself taking long strides all the way up and back down to your peak. Your body had now grown accustomed to the new sensation, and you welcomed it greedily as you pushed back against his face. 

When JB knew you were so close to your sweet release he focused his tongue more on your swollen bud. Each new caress of his tongue gradually made it harder for your arms to hold you up. For your legs to keep from shaking uncontrollably. 

Your orgasm continued to grow; blossoming between your folds with an ache that your body felt. You were so, so close and with a final thrust of his tongue you felt your world spin and that sweet heat between your legs finally sent shockwaves all over your body. 

You came moaning so loud anyone else would’ve thought you were screaming. Your head thrown back and riding the sensation of his greedy mouth taking everything you had to offer. 

When his lips finally released from you, your body was still coming down from your orgasm. The loud panting that came from you as you leaned against the sink completely spent. You watched in the mirror as he pulled a golden foil packet from his pocket. His eyes sinfully watching you as he ripped it carefully with his teeth. JB’s finger moved quickly to take out the slick rubber from the packet and begin to work it down his shaft. 

You’d been so consumed with recovering from his tongue that you hadn’t realized when he’d taken his cock out of his jeans that were now shameless at his ankles. He put a few fingers inside your wetness that caused you to gasp. Your body was still recovering from what had just taken place. 

He used your cum to lubricate himself and placed himself at your entrance. Already the tip of him stretching you out with the delicious sting that told you he was thick. You couldn’t wait. 

You moved to push back into him to help him inside and he pulled away. His hand smacking down on your ass making you even more eager. 

“Patience is a virtue.”

He tried to be funny, but his voice was deep and throaty with his own lust. You were close to pleading with him again like before, but he let it be known quickly he had no intentions to wait. 

JB slid inside you and you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. The feel of him making your breath catch. His girth much thicker than you’d imagined, and your body shook from the pleasure of feeling yourself stretch around him. 

His thrusts started off slow until he knew you’d had enough time. His hands found an anchor on your hips and used them to pull you in to meet his hips. A string of curse words fell from your mouth as your hips rocked back into him. 

Each movement felt like he was going deeper. JB’s hands on the cheeks of your ass kept you spread open to him and left no friction to catch his thrusts. Every single one was felt as he buried himself inside you in a rhythmic timing that left you moaning. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror, and glanced over to watch him as he worked. The way his hips bucked up only to be brought down. His hands stationed on your hips and bruising the flesh there as his grip got tighter. JB looked up and caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. His eyes locked with yours as he continued that unrelenting pace. 

He removed a hand from your ass and used it to wrap back around your neck. When he knew he had a good grip, he used it to pull you close to his chest. The angle of him in this new position somehow made him feel like he was pushing into your gut. 

Your mouth opened to make another sound, a moan or a scream you weren’t sure which, when that hand in your throat tilted your mouth towards him. His own came crashing down on your lips with his tongue that tasted of you slipping inside. You eagerly opened your mouth to him, and your tongue quickly moved to get a taste. 

JB deepened the kiss as his hips began to thrust harder into you. The movement building up your orgasm with each brutal movement until it threatened to spill over. 

“You taste so good with me on your lips.”

Your words fell earnest from your lips. You meant every one of them. You’d never tasted yourself so pretty on anyone else’s lips. JB obliged as he took your lips back. His mouth silenced another moan as his last free hand found its way back to your clit. Your body jumped at the added sensation. Your mouth tore away from his as another moan dripped from your lips. 

You were so close. You could fill yourself ready to cum if only he would let you. JB must have been close too, because his thrusts started becoming more violent and sporadic. Hitting in all the right places.

 At the same time as his fingers made small circles around your clit, a singular hard thrust of his hips sent his cock deep inside you. Your vision erupted in a sea of white. Your orgasm sent your body rutting back against him. 

He rode your orgasm and somehow made it grow in intensity as he continued to move his hips. His own breathing going ragged as you felt him finally release into you. 

When you both were able to breathe again, you’d realized you were laying over the sink. JB’s forehead resting on your back as you both struggled to regain your composure. 

JB was the first to move. The first to begin the arduous process of cleaning up. Like a voyeur, you watched him as he threw away the spent rubber and tuck himself back inside his jeans. A smirk creased your lips when you noticed he now had noticeable wet spots on his tee shirt. 

“You know, I don’t even know anything about you.”

You weren’t sure why you made the comment or why it mattered. You’d just had sex with the man in a damn bar bathroom. But JB didn’t seem to mind. His own smile curling his lips as he salvaged what he could of his hair. 

“What would you like to know?”

“Well,” you began as you started to situate your skirt. “What’s your favorite color?”

It was a silly question. By the look on JB’s face, he knew it was, but he humored you anyways. 

“It used to be blue, but I think red might be a new favorite.” 

“Why is that?”

You were wondering where your panties had gone until you spied a bit of the black cloth hanging from his pocket. JB walked over to you in a few steps and planted a soft kiss down on your lips. One that spoke plainly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see each other. 

“Because it currently matches the color of your ass.”

JB was out the door and in the bar’s hallway before you’d even got a chance to respond. 

#lim jae-beom #lim jae-beom smut #lim jae-beom fanfiction #lim jae-beom scenarios #lim jae-beom one shots #jay b #jb #jay b smut #jay b scenarios #jay b one shots #jb smut #jb one shots #jb fanfiction #got7 #got7 smut #got7 fanfiction #got7 one shot #got7 scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #kpop one shot #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction

[smoochkooks]

—golden boy (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, disney hercules au, meg!oc, hercules!jk

⟶ summary: jungkook finally has you all to himself. and oh, is he going to cherish the moment wholeheartedly.

⟶  word count: 2.7k

⟶ warnings: virgin!jk, switch!jk if you squint, exhibitionism (they do it outdoors but it’s ancient greece so it’s not even surprising), soft to kinda rough sex, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, jk in a man bun, pegasus cockblocking his partner in crime

a/n: i got cherry vodka drunk and wrote this in two hours. it’s jorny hours so please forgive me for the sins you’re about to read with your very own eyes. hercules is one of my favorite childhood disney movies and watching it today i just couldn’t stop imagining jk as the greek god. if you see any mistakes - please ignore them. it’s almost 2am. enjoy!! xx ps. I had some major difficulties with posting this one so if you were one of the first people to read it and sth was off: read it again now thank u

Jungkook thinks you're the most beautiful person in the whole world. 

He hasn't seen many goddesses in his life (hell, he's sure of it, judging by the short period of time he spent on Olympus as a newborn baby-god) but he's positive you would make his aunt Aphrodite jealous. You’re the epitome of his perfection, a walking daydream, his muse and an object of desire.

He could die happily staring at you, though it's impossible due to the fact he's very much immortal. He could travel back to Hades and fight every titan that rots in the pits of Tartarus, just to see you batting your long eyelashes at him or hear you call him ‘golden boy’ again. You quite literally have him wrapped around your finger, not even his father Zeus, the most powerful god in the entire universe managed to convince him to stay on Olympus and bask in the glory with the rest of his family.  

Jungkook chose to live his life with you, on Earth, and there's not a single smudge of doubt or regret clouding his brain. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms and kiss stupidi just like right now when it’s dark out and you’re sitting comfortably on the ground near a small pond.  

“You saved me once again, golden boy,” you murmur, fingers lazily threading through the dark locks on his neck. It almost makes him purr into your mouth.

“You weren't really in trouble the first time.” He bites your lip in return, eliciting a giggle from you.

“But am I not your favorite damsel in distress, Jungkookie?” You place your palm on his rock-hard chest and push, until he's laying flat on the grass, the starry sky above reflecting in his black orbs. “You're my hero, you know that, right?” you whisper, straddling his lap.  

Jungkook's been to Olympus and knows what heaven looks like but this: you above him, your hair cascading down your shoulders, dress bunching up around your waist and revealing smooth expanses of honey skin– is incomparable. It's sweet ambrosia on his tongue, the finest of all tastes, the greatest feeling in the world.  

“Am I?” he asks just to hear you say it once again. Instead of responding verbally you lean down to kiss him, your lips molding perfectly together. He groans into your mouth, two calloused palms itching to touch the bare skin of your thighs. Growing bolder, his hands reach further, cupping your asscheeks and pulling you even closer to him. 

You smirk into his mouth. “Someone's eager,” you tease but give in anyway, brushing your core over the hard length beneath his tunic.  

Jungkook all but moans at that and you relish in the sounds he makes, repeating the movement and slowly grinding yourself on his cock. His face twitches in pure ecstasy and you swear you've never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life– the son of Zeus being at your mercy, helpless to the pleasure you're giving him. “You're going to be the death of me,” he sighs, angling your head to kiss you again. You don't hesitate to oblige, accepting the tongue he slithers inside with a whimper of your own. 

“Thank gods you're immortal.” you say in between kisses.

He chuckles lowly, sending shivers down your spine. He bunches the material of your dress in his hands and lifts it off you in one, swift movement. Your nipples harden feeling the soft breeze fanning over your flesh. Looking down, you're met with Jungkook's blown out pupils. He looks so dreamy like this, the most perfect golden boy you’ve ever seen. His lips are swollen from your kisses, hair a little tussled and falling from his bun. A sight for sore eyes, truly.  

“You're so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, his palms engulfing your breasts. You moan when he sucks one of the nipples into his hot mouth, fingers threading through his hair and ready to pull. “My goddess,” he chants, switching to the other breast. He flicks the pebbled bud with his tongue and then bites lightly, making you cry out in pleasure. “I love the sounds you make. Want to hear you moaning for me. Give me more, love, please.”

He places his hands underneath your thighs and lifts you off him, laying you on your back. You don't complain about the change, not when he trails kisses down your chest and stomach, not when you feel his hot breath on your womanhood. He's determined to please you, it seems, so he mouths over your undergarments, alternating between kissing and licking you softly through the material.  

“Take them off,” you mutter, growing impatient. Jungkook looks up, a devilish smirk on his lips. Oh, how many sleepless nights you spent dreaming of him staring at you like that and practically devouring you with his eyes.  

“Won't you beg for me a little, love?” He's too cocky for his own good but you decide to let it slide for now, your urges getting better of you.  

“Please, Jungkookie, make me feel good.” you keen in saccharine sweet voice. He doesn't need to be told twice, ripping the undergarments off your body. “Oh, yes!” you moan when he gives you first, experimental lick up your slick folds. He swirls his tongue over your clit, making you choke out a, “Right there, darling, right there.”  

Jungkook's certain his newfound favourite place in the world is going to be between your thighs. He's already addicted to your taste, to your smell. He lavishes your cunt with passion, devouring you like the finest meal. He loves the sounds you make, love the little whimpers and breathy moans. He wants to listen to them forever. 

He groans into your heat when you pull his hair, pulling away from your pussy with a wet pop. “Do it again,” he rasps against your core and that's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. You grant his wish, repeating it every time he delivers a toe-curling suck to your sensitive bud. “You're dripping, my love. Is this all for me?” Jungkook asks, lifting his head up enough so you could see his lips and chin glistening in your arousal. He’s getting bolder again but you’re too consumed with your own pleasure to pay mind to it.

“All for you,” you murmur, the pads of your fingers trailing through his locks lightly. He closes his eyes, lets you massage his scalp for a brief moment. “You're doing so good, darling. You're going to make me come.” 

He takes it as a sign to continue, diving right into your cunt. He shows no mercy, bringing you to the edge of release. You wonder how could he possibly be so good at this already but then you remember who exactly your lover is– a son of Zeus can only be either a fast learner or natural.  

With one, final flick of his tongue on your clit the coil in your stomach tightens and you're coming, more slick gushing out of your and coating Jungkook's face in translucent release. He doesn't seem to be bothered though, licking his lips and chin obscenesly and moaning at the taste. Your hole clenches, needing to be filled.

Jungkook discards his tunic and now you have a perfect view of his sturdy muscles, the byproduct of his training with Phil. You almost drool at the sight, running your palms greedily over the wide expanses of his chest. When your finger ever-so-slightly brushes his nipple, you feel him chocking out a tiny moan. Smirking, you repeat the motion.  

“Y/N, love, please don't tease me. I need to be inside you so bad.” he husks when your other hand travels down his abdomen and trails over his aching cock. 

“As you wish, darling.” With shaky limbs you manage to turn him on his backside again. Right when you're about to pulls his undergarments down, you hear something rustling between the trees. You stop abruptly. 

“Did you hear that?” you whisper, squinting your eyes to see better although there's no use for that during the night.  

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Hear what?” he mumbles and props himself on his elbows to look, but then you see it yourself. A glimpse of white fur that can only belong to– 

“That stupid horse!” you shriek, covering your bare breats with your hands.

“What?!” Jungkook yells, equally as shocked as you. He scrambles for his tunic to cover your modest figure. “Pegasus! Get out of here!” The magical creature neighs in response and peeks from between the bushes, looking at you pitifully. 

“Oh gods, he saw me naked!” you wail, mortified, as Jungkook gets up to scold Pegasus. “I'm gonna die from embarrassment!”  

Jungkook angrily gestures to the horse to leave you two alone, standing only in his undergarments. You want to laugh at how absurd this whole situation is. Pegasus nods with his head bowed down. Fulfilling the order, he spreads his wings and flies away somewhere. You hope far, far away from here.

“Hey,” You hear Jungkook's soft voice. He takes your hands in his and uncovers your red face. “We're alone.” he says, smiling apologetically at you.  

“I can't believe your stupid, magical horse almost watched us fuck."

“Keyword: almost.”

You cry out, burying your face in his neck.  “It's not funny!” you huff, punching him in the chest however you know he probably hasn't even felt it. But you did feel pretty much though; it hurts like you've hit a stone.  

Jungkook chuckles, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, rubbing your back soothingly.  

You look up to meet his eyes. “Do you?” you repeat with raised eyebrows.  

There it goes again, the damned sly smirk. “I'm still very much hard, love, and I'm afraid it won't go away that easily.”

“Yeah?” you murmur, thoughts about Pegasus and his prying horse eyes showed to the back of your head. “And what are you gonna do about it?” You push him onto his back, fingers grasping the material of his undergarments.  

Jungkook swallows before saying, “I'm gonna fuck you so hard you will never even think of leaving me.”

Biting your lip, you slide his undergarments down his toned legs. His cock is just as perfect as the rest of him–long, curved at the top and flaming red, craving to be touched. Using the precum that has gattered at the tip you smear it along his shaft, watching in awe as his face confronts in pleasure. He lets you play with him for a while like that, drive him to the insanity with your teasing.  

Just when you're about to position yourself over his cock, he stops you. “Have you ever done this before?” he asks, although he already knows the answer.  

“I did. Once,” you answer honestly. “But it didn't mean anything to me.” You slowly sink down on him, welcoming the slightly burning stretch with a satisfied moan.  

Jungkook hisses, digs his fingers into your waist and you're sure he'll leave bruising marks. “And what does this mean?” he asks, almost chokes out feeling your hot canal enveloping his length.  

“Everything,” you breathe out, lifting yourself off him just to slam down hard afterwards. “You mean the world to me.” you say; it’s priactially a whisper. As you're staring into his wide eyes, you can see your love for him reflected in them. It all feels like a dream you don't wanna wake up from.  

“I love you, Y/N,” he confesses and you know he means it. “From the moment I saw you for the first time I knew you would be the one for me.”  

A lonely tear slides down your cheeks and he catches it with his thumb. “I love you too, Jungkook.” you murmur.  

He smiles like a fool, opens his mouth to say more but you shut him up with a kiss and your hips establishing a steady rhythm on his cock. You pull away from his lips, saliva dribbling down both of your chins but you don't care, bouncing on him like your life depends on it. Maybe it does a little.  

“So good,” you whimper, the tip of his cock almost hitting your cervix with every stroke.  

Underneath you Jungkook looks like he might die right here and there, his chest sweaty and heaving with every breath he takes. He has a vice grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his cock. To your surprise you find yourself liking that side of him, the rough touch of his hands on your skin. You wonder what he's capable of if you push him a little further.  

“Oh, gods!” you keen when his cock brushes past the spot that makes you see stars. He fucks into you just in time for you to add, “Just like that.”  

As much as Jungkook enjoys seeing you bouncing on top of him, he grows tired of just laying still and taking it. In one, swift motion, he flips you onto your back. You squel after the sudden change of positions but that quickly morphs into a loud moan as he rams his cock inside your cunt.

He picks up the pace, making you feel every inch of him. He stares down where your body ends and his begins, watching his cock disappearing in your hole. You urge him to look at you instead, pull him down to leave a messy kiss on his lips. “Shit, you're so perfect,” he marvels, palms squeezing every part of your body he could reach. “Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl,” he spits, leaning to suck a mark on your neck. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“I love it. Love your cock,” you say over the slapping sounds of your skin meeting his. “You're so good to me Jungkookie, so good.” As you feel another, powerful orgasm approaching, you slip your fingers down your body to toy with your clit.  

Jungkook catches it and snatches your hand away, replacing with his own. He rubs your sensitive bud fast and hard, making you cry out his name in a broken moan. “Are you gonna come for me, love? I want you to cream my cock like a good girl.” he rasps, slithering himself inside you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs. 

“Yes, yes!” you chant, feeling your cunt spasming around his length. He curses, fucking you through your high. “Kiss me, Jungkookie–please,” you nearly sob and he obliges right away, plunging his tongue inside your mouth to dance with yours. It's messy and wet but you're relishing in it.  

He pants against your mouth, his pace getting sloppy. “I'm not gonna last longer,” he stammers out. “Your pussy feels too good, I'm–”

“Shh,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “It's okay. You did so good, darling.” He moans at the praise, leans down to bury his face in your neck. 

“Oh gods, I'm gonna–ah, shit,” he groans, thrusts into your cunt a few more times and then he comes, spilling himself inside. “I love you, I love you.” he repeats, breathing heavily down your neck.

You wrap your arms around him, smiling to yourself. “And I love you.” you respond. “But please, for the love of Zeus, get off me or you'll suffocate me.”

Jungkook chuckles, lifting himself off your body. He props himself on his hand and stares down at you. You’ve never felt so happy. It’s right here, with him, that you feel the most acomplished. You wish to make it last forever. He places a kiss on your mouth, a sweet, quick peck before he crashes his body next to yours.

He pulls you to his side and you could feel his heart beating underneath the palm you placed on his chest. It beats with the love he has for you. 

“When do you think you will be able to go again?” you ask.

Jungkook cocks his head. “What? Are you proposing a round two?”

“Not exactly,” you quip, your nail ever so slightly brushing over his nipple. “Want you in my mouth this time.”

“You little minx.”

You smirk. If his already semi-hard cock is anything to go by, you have a long night ahead of yourself.

#jungkook smut #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #bangtanhq #jungkook x reader #bts smut #my writing #bts fanfic

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie​

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet​ “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

.

.

.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

.

.

.

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn’t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

#supermwritersnet #exosnet #exowritersnet #kyungsoo fanfic #chanyeol fanfic #exo fanfic #kyungsoo x reader #exo x reader #exo x you #kyungsoo x you #kyungsoo fluff #chanyeol fluff #kyungsoo angst #chanyeol angst #exo angst #exo fluff #exo travel au #exo #kyungsoo #chanyeol #d.o fanfic #exo scenarios #kyungsoo scenarios #chanyeol scenarios #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo imagines #chanyeol imagines

[muertawrites]

Fireside (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,775

Author’s Note: I am so deeply sorry this took so long to post. I don’t know what happened but after Thanksgiving the creative part of my brain completely shut down and all I could do was lay in bed and play video games. But it’s back now so 🎉🎉🎉 happy new year to all of us! 

I got this request a WHILE ago and had written something else for it but after reconsidering, I totally hated it, so this is the rewrite for some cozy, wintery goodness. I also love this idea because I’m constantly cold - my feet and hands are always freezing and even in summer I’ll wear sweaters and hoodies because aircon can get pretty chilly when you have the body temp of your average vampire. 

Now for a little update: in the new year, I’ll be focusing more on original works than fanfiction. I’m still going to finish Two Halves, and I’ll still write fanfiction (because it’s still super fun) but I have so many ideas for original works that are taking over my brain that it seems only fitting to shift that direction. If you’re on my subscriber list and would like to only receive alerts for fanfic, let me know and I’ll add you to a separate list. 

I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday, taking time to relax and spend time with loved ones, and generally just glad to have survived this shithole of a year. Here’s hoping that 2021 goes better - 2020 set the bar pretty low so it shouldn’t be too hard. 🥂

Snow was a rare occurrence in the Fire Nation. Summers typically scorched, followed by peaceful autumns and mild winters; a little rainfall was all one typically expected during the colder months in the Imperial City. 

This year, however, was much different. The mountains that bordered the villages and towns throughout the island were white capped under gray skies; streets were slickened by thick layers of ice that settled between cobblestones and creased the panes of windows; bracing breezes swept through landscapes unaccustomed to such unforgiving weather, carrying flurries of snow that bit at cheeks and cloaked the world in a dull ivory veil. Winter came to the Fire Nation seeking a cruel, unwarranted vengeance.

You woke in the middle of the night to find the fire beside your bed had died, leaving your borrowed room in a state of bitter, slicing cold. It wasn't the first time the Firelord’s palace had left you uncomfortably chilled since your arrival for his New Year’s celebrations, as the building was never meant to withstand this type of climate - sweeping ceilings, open breezeways, and tall windows with thin shutters ensured that the cold had its way. Being from the Northern Earth Kingdom, used to sturdy wooden lodges with massive fire pits that could burn an entire tree trunk with one lighting, this strange change of the typical season made you ache for home. 

Knowing there were no matches beside the hearth (given the sheer amount of fire benders that resided in the palace), you gathered up your courage and begrudgingly rolled from your mattress, taking the blankets with and wrapping them tightly around yourself. The walls around you creaked, shifting under the push of moaning winds, as you slipped into the hallway in search of your host. 

You were thankful that Zuko decided to keep his personal wing of the palace confined to a space that was mostly enclosed; the only breezeways in this part of the sprawling estate surrounded its courtyards and gardens, and were blocked by sets of heavy wood doors that shielded the inner parts of the building from being overcome by the elements. As you walked, traipsing through the corridor under your mound of blankets like some sort of shadowy, death-bringing phantom, you passed one of the windows that overlooked the gardens, and found it frosted under heavy white tufts of snow; puffy, clumped flakes whirled down from the sky, falling haphazardly as they escaped the grip of the whipping wind. Even in the relative warmth of the palace, your body shivered thinking of how frigid the air outside must be. 

Because of the abnormal cold, Zuko moved his mattress out of his bedroom and into his sitting room, where a large, decorative fireplace stood nestled into the far wall. You approached his sleeping form with gentle, quiet steps, being careful not to startle him; you lay a hand on his shoulder and he jolted awake, drawing a sharp breath in as he twisted to face you, blinking blearily to make out your features in the dark. 

“What are you doing?” he muttered. 

“I'm cold,” you whispered in response. “My fire went out.” 

Zuko sighed, fixing you with an irked, exhausted expression. 

“Seriously?” he groaned. “This is the third time this week.” 

“It's not my fault nobody has any friggin matches in this place,” you quipped. “And besides, why bring a servant all the way up here when I have one of the world’s greatest fire benders down the hall?”

Zuko huffed, then rolled back over in an attempt to shove you off. 

“There should be more blankets in your closet,” he grumbled. 

“I'm wearing all of them,” you retorted. 

You stood above him, waiting, but got no response. Shivering, and with an exasperated sigh, you pulled back the blankets around him, shuffling between them and nestling into his back; he snapped his head around once more, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“... Isn’t this a little uncomfortable?” he wondered. 

“Not really,” you replied. “We used to do this all the time when we were teenagers.” 

“We haven't done this since we were teenagers.”

You hummed, recalling your time together during the war. Even on the hottest days, your body was cold, your fingers always reasonably corpselike to anyone who happened to touch them - Zuko was one of those unfortunate people, and the lack of circulation in your limbs came as quite a worry to him. Throughout the day, he would take one of your hands in his, heating his palm until your skin took on a more lively temperature. When he noticed how much you layered at night when the air became cooler, he started sleeping nearer to you, eventually curling up around you to keep you warm. After the war, when he got into the habit of visiting you around the winter holidays, you still found yourself seeking him for warmth, tucking your hands into the sleeves of his robes or curling his palm around your icy fingers, finding sanctuary in the way he heated his skin to appease you. While it was true you hadn't slept together since you were younger, you hadn't ever needed to - desperate times called for desperate measures. 

“I should have remembered that you get so grumpy when you're tired,” you teased him, rubbing your feet against his; he hissed, but didn't pull away. 

“You're freezing,” he commented. “I should have remembered you're dead on the inside.” 

You giggled, sighing happily as the familiar heat of his skin warming like a furnace chased the chill from your toes. You slid your feet up along his ankles, causing him to shiver; his body tensed for a moment, then eased into your touch, quickly finding comfort in its familiarity. 

“Aang used to assume we were a couple because of this,” Zuko mumbled. “He still does.” 

“You're just a good friend,” you replied. You nuzzled your face into the broad, solid expanse of his back, breathing in his scent of scorched wood and sea salt. He felt like home. “Good friends don't let their friends freeze to death.” 

Zuko chuckled, taking hold of your hands that lay on his waist and cupping them within his own; he held your knuckles up to his mouth and huffed warm, smokey air onto them, heating them until they no longer felt cold. He tucked them beneath the fabric of his tunic, keeping them tepid between the fabric of his undershirt. 

“Uncle says the same thing,” he mused. “He says we treat each other like lovers, whether we realize it or not.” 

“My neighbors have asked me what my husband does that takes him away for so long out of the year...” you commented, eliciting another breathy laugh from your companion. “But I think I'd know if you were in love with me.” 

Zuko rolled over, turning to face you; his arm latched at your waist, his chest almost pressed to you and your noses grazing each other in the small space of his mattress. You blushed, the color blending with the soft, balmy glow of the low hearth behind him. 

“What makes you think I'm not in love with you?” he wondered. 

You paused, watching the flames flicker over the angular features of his face. Though he was silhouetted, and so close he seemed to envelop all of you, you could make out a tender gleam in his eye; could feel the flutter in his chest as he split it open, tentatively revealing his heart to you. 

“... I'd like to think you would have mentioned it,” you answered after a moment, “but I know you better than that.” 

Zuko grinned; you watched the curve of his cheek as it swelled with the action. 

“I might have mentioned it,” he murmured, his voice lilting with a gentle mirth. “Just not to you.”

“Of course not,” you teased. You mirrored his smile, easing into him as his foot began to stroke against your ankle once more. “Either way, I know you don't love me.” 

“And why is that?” Zuko whispered. 

“Well… you never write to me about anything exciting,” you replied. “You always seem so content to write to me about your thoughts, or what plays you've seen recently, or your conversations with Iroh. You never tell me about the impressive, world-altering Firelord stuff or your incredible exploits as a warrior.” 

Zuko smirked, raising a hand to brush some hair away from your face. His fingers were calloused and lukewarm, tracing over your temple with consideration and care. 

“Why else?” 

“You've never tried to kiss me,” you noted, “or touch me like a lover. You never try to push our boundaries past anything that's comfortable for us. Even right now - I'm laying in your bed, but you refuse to touch me in a way you're unsure of.” 

“Then you don't love me, either,” Zuko added. His body had gravitated flush to yours, your legs braided together under the pile of blankets you'd buried him in. “You only want to sleep with me when you're cold. You could just as easily call a servant for help.” 

“And you only want to keep me warm out of obligation,” you agreed. “It wouldn’t make you look very good if I died of hypothermia on your watch.” 

For a long moment, Zuko gazed at you. You basked in his silence, the easiness of his form so close to yours, the native feeling of his arm around your waist and his breath tickling your cheeks. The fire snapped quietly in its hearth, its flames rising and falling in time with his inhales and exhales. 

“I’ve missed this,” Zuko admitted in a whisper. “Laying with you. I wish we could do it more often.” 

“I’ve missed it, too,” you affirm. “I always used to sleep better with you.” 

“And that’s it?” Zuko teased. 

“That’s it,” you giggled back. 

He chanced a kiss to your forehead, pressing his lips between your brows and letting them linger there, savoring the coolness of your skin. You shut your eyes, giving yourself entirely to his touch. 

“In the new year… do you think we could be lovers?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“... I think your uncle is right,” you murmured. “I think we already are.” 

With a faint, bashful smile, Zuko pulled you closer (if the act were even possible), hugging you tightly to him; you held him close, pressing the whole of your body to his and soaking in his steady, comforting warmth. As the wind howled outside, shaking the flimsy wooden eaves of the feeble shelter around you, you fell asleep in the heat of his fireside, safe in the knowledge that his arms held you. 

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[aloraundomiel]

Wartober/Kisstober - Day 11

I’ve decided to combine @rubinecorvus Wartober 2021 and @raincoffeeandfandoms Kisstober 2021 prompt challenges for double the fun and double the headache. :3

Day 11 - Light + Kisses As A Promise

WARNING: Listen at this point, I'm just writing multiple semi-redundant love letters to Dick Winters and Damian Lewis' body. So if that's not your jam, you're about to have a bad time.

Dick looks good in any light.

Sunlight seems made for him, crowning him as a favorite son - a scion - setting his copper hair aflame with it’s love and claiming him as its own. He lingers in it’s radiance and never seems to burn despite his pale skin. Only wears his freckles like sunspots as his body takes on a golden Adonis glow. He walks under the crepuscular rays and Nixon turns and tracks him like an adoring flower.

Moonlight too, challenges for his affections. It courts him with a covetous lust that's equally strong, if not lacking the same magnitude of violence. He stands still in the night and it gathers and pools like liquid silver along his limbs, coats him in a million fairy lights that dance and sway in the breeze. It turns all his movements fluid, the simplest saunter down the sidewalk becoming a waltz. Like he’s some otherworldly being the moonlight by design is made to accent and enhance.

Candlelight spins him in threads of softest saffron. While it’s embrace is gentler, more forgiving, it cuts Dick into a creature of sharp edges and mysterious shadows. It sighs along his skin, brushing it smooth and velvety to the point where it’s almost irresistible for Nixon to reach out and touch. He loves interrupting the candlelight on Dick’s skin.

Firelight even more. It’s candlelight’s more aggressive sister, licking along Dick’s torso in cinnamons and yellows that burn pure and white at their hottest. He arches his back under Nixon’s touch, sprawled like poured molten magma on the hearth rug, twisting and writhing like a living flame himself. His gasps compliment the crackle of the blaze as it consumes sweet-smelling wood and when Nixon brings him to orgasm with his fingers and mouth and body, Dick combusts in the most glorious explosion of red light, his throat a fiery column as his head falls back in ecstasy.

Even streetlights. The harsh, unforgiving neon of Chicago doesn’t bloat the angles of his face into obscurity the way it does Nixon. He stands in thoughtful observation at the window of the atrociously lavish hotel room Nixon’s booked for the next two days, stripped to the waist and arms crossed over his chest. The garish lights of the city only emphasize his fine bone structure, the fit expanse of muscle that ripples at his back and abdomen as he shifts.

He gives a minute turn of his head at Nixon’s approach from behind and it presents an entirely new profile, his smile lined in vulgar magenta, the outline of his chin in brazen cyan. Instead of making him gaudy or cheap, it sits like paint on his features - a bizarre colored work of art.

He settles back against Nixon’s chest, lifts his arms to make room for the ones slipping around to encircle him from the back.

Nixon peppers a string of kisses across the broad line of his shoulders, nibbling at the ball and tracing the neon highlights with his nose.

“Well?” he mumbles, mouth full of every color in the light spectrum, Dick’s own specific wavelength buzzing like electricity on his tongue. “Told you I’d get you to Chicago. How do you like it?”

Dick overlaps his large hands on Nixon’s forearms, nodding sagely.

“It’s nice, Lew. A bit fast paced. But I’m glad I got to see it.”

Nixon hooks his chin over Dick’s shoulder, gazes out with him at the landscape for a long moment. Though they are the ones trapped behind glass, it’s the bustle of the city that seems like the specimen under observation. It rushes on below their feet, ignorant of their existence and Nixon is grateful. He doesn’t have to compete for Dick here. He doesn’t have to hide his incessant craving for him here. He can touch at will, can reach out and take anytime he fancies, under the witness of all the city lights.

“Where to next?” Dick asks, his eyes glittering with joy in the reflected ambient light of the city.

“Anywhere,” Nixon tells him. He’ll follow Dick to the sun and the moon and back, watching as he eclipses the shine of both as they pass. “Anywhere you want.”

Anything you want. Anything I can get, anything I have, it’s yours. Don’t you see?

“Montana?” Dick suggests. “The Wild West?”

“Sure.” Nixon nuzzles the hollow of his neck, rubs his cheek against him until stubble catches and he’s forced to switch to trailing lips over the edge of Dick’s jaw. The light turns the blonde of his beard beginnings and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck into spun red gold. Nixon presses his lips to them and expects to taste amber and honey and clove. Warm spices associated with fire.

He tastes nothing like he looks. Mint and lime aftershave and the cool green of forests. Nixon drags the tip of his tongue down Dick’s pulse point, delighting at the contradiction.

“South America,” Dick says, that teasing lopsided smile pulling up one side of his mouth. “The tropical rain forests of the Amazon. Lots of bugs. And heat. And sweat.”

He’s clearly testing the limits of Nix’s commitment. He doesn’t realize Nixon is already there, one step behind anywhere he might dream to venture.

He kisses Dick’s cheek, craning his neck around as far as he can to claim the soft dimples at the corners of Dick’s mouth. It’s rose pink at the swell, navy in the crease and the space behind his teeth.

“Won’t have to pack much clothing,” he says pragmatically.

That earns him a chuckle and Nixon thrills. If he can spend the rest of his life making this man laugh like that - contained but earnest, relaxed, happy - he will have done something worthwhile.

Dick slides out of his hold to rotate in his arms. He drapes himself over Nix’s shoulders, let’s himself be walked backwards towards the ostentatious windows until his back is pressed against glass, Nixon pressed against him. His eyes are a giddy prismatic blue with too many colored facets for Nixon to name. They’re all his favorite color simultaneously.

“The peaks of the Himalayas,” Dick murmurs, lingering within kissing distance, close enough that Nixon can feel their breath ricocheting and mingling. “The highest point of Everest so we can look out over the whole world.”

Another kiss. Another seal on the treaty.

“We’ve survived one frozen barren wasteland, what’s one more?”

One day Dick will leave him. Because maybe he’ll grow tired of Nix’s insipid brand of love, where the balance of give and take is always just slightly skewed towards selfishness. Because the wanderlust and call to action is too great and he’s too big to cram himself back into the drab grey box of domesticity for long. Because his lionheart will eventually give out and take him wherever it is good, devout men go.

Nixon won’t be able to follow him forever. But he’s sure as hell going to try for as long as he can.

“To the bottom of the sea,” Dick says, eyes full of mirth and dancing over Nix’s face. He runs his hands through Nix’s dark hair, tugging him even closer. Until he’s a blur of color and shapes and Nix’s vision melts into a soft, fuzzy haze consisting only of him. “Where the shipwrecks are, waiting to be discovered, hulls full of silver and gold.”

Nixon kisses him. Partially to cement the deal. Mostly to shut him up. Weaves his arms around Dick’s light-loved body and tries to hoard it all to himself. Kisses the obstinance off his teeth until he tastes something sweeter. Richer.

He kisses Dick until he’s confident in the sunrise again. Until Dick’s soft sighs and moans loop in his ears like a symphony - an orchestral soundtrack written to accompany the new daybreak promised.

He draws back only when Dick tightens his grip, the arousal sparking hot in his blood. He stares at Nixon, just this side of breathless and his calm starting to unspool. Goddamn, he’s gorgeous like this. Balance tilted in towards Nixon’s center of gravity, tension simmering just below the surface and waiting to be tapped. Cast in a rainbow mold of neon, eyes iridescent with clarity enough to rival diamonds.

Nixon kisses his top lip and then the bottom, and repeats. “I said I’d take you anywhere. And I meant what I said.”

Oh love, don’t be afraid. Don’t look over your shoulder for me. We are stronger than Orpheus and Eurydice. My devotion is not nearly as fragile.

Dick grins, pulls him back in. “Just checking,” he murmurs against Nixon’s mouth. “Take me to bed first. We can figure out the next stop after.”

Dick looks good in any light.

But he looks the best lit from within, reflecting and amplifying Lewis Nixon’s paltry, washed out love back upon him with the force of a thousand suns.

Comments and kudos are always appreciated on my ao3! <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34466809

#band of brothers #winnix #lewis nixon #dick winters #my fic #fanfic prompt #kisstober 2021 #wartober 2021 #listen just let me write nice repetitive things about them because I love them

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

On Illness and Recovery, or: Sickfic, Baby!

You know the drill! Please let me know if you liked it, and check my Twisted Wonderland fanfiction tag if you want other shit I’ve done.

Contains coarse language and emotional whiplash.

~*~*~*~

Some things stay true no matter where you are; the truest, right now? Schools are disgusting fucking petri dishes, as your miserable cold will tell you. Your cough had only been getting worse as the days went on, with it came exhaustion and a chill that wouldn't leave your bones. You should probably be holed up in your dorm instead of going to class, but that had it's own issues that you were struggling to solve.

"Are you done yet? I want to eat." Grimm's nose, and little else, poked out from a pile of blankets on your bed.

"Nowhere close. Shh." You taped the last bit of plastic over the balcony entryway, and swapped the roll of tape for a heavy duty stapler. "Hold that right there."

The skull-faced ghost held a packing blanket over the plastic as you stapled it in place. By the time you were done, you couldn't see much, which at least meant you could no longer see your own breath. Maybe now, you would be able to feel your own fingers.

Ah, they joys of your own rotten, ancient place - you wake up with frost on your bedsheets and your washbasin shattered from the ice within it. There were other rooms in the place, but most had holes in the ceiling or were too big to heat effectively. So now, you were going to live in one room, that you'd yet to figure out how to run electricity to, and only leave for class or the bathroom. Even if you were ill, could anyone blame you for still going to class when your own home had a nasty quirk of being even colder than outside?

Anywho, it was time to do some homework. By the light of an oil lamp. In five layers of clothing. Curled up so close to a tiny fire you might as well be inside of it. While your not-a-cat complained the whole time.

Yaaaaaaay.

~*~*~*~

"You really should be resting."

You scoffed. "You just feel bad because you're the one who got me sick."

"You can't prove that, everyone's had a cold the past few weeks."

"No one else has been exploring my tonsils, dude."

Idia clapped a hand on your mouth, which you did not lick solely because you were wearing a cloth mask. "Quiet! That's secret intel."

"What? No it's not, everyone knows."

"I don't want to advertise. Then I'm a raid boss and you're the rare loot drop."

You elbowed him in his boney ribs. "No one's going to kick your ass out of jealousy. Just because I'm the hottest bitch in this place doesn't mean I've got universal appeal."

"You're still the only girl and people are weird about it." He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and winced. "You're too warm."

"How can you tell? You've got gloves on."

"That's how bad it is. I'll make some tea."

"I'm not drinking anything out of the damned lab equipment."

He frowned. "I've never had anything bad happen, it's cleaned correctly."

"You're smarter than that. One of these days you're going to grow a tail due to residue in the glassware, and I'm going to haul you around in front of god and everyone by it, going 'I told you so' the entire time."

He blanched, knowing that that was not an idle threat, and someone laughed. "I think I should make that happen, just so we can see that."

"Jade, no. No magic mushrooms for my man, or any other concoctionary bullshit either."

Idia looked ready to die, so to take attention off of him you leaned over and poked Silver awake before he fell face first in the potion he was working on. Logically, you know his narcolepsy was debilitating. Right now, you wish you could have borrowed it last night. You don't remember walking up during the night, but you must have, because why else would you be so tired?

He started up, mumbled "thank you" and went back to stirring as if he hadn't been about to drown in dubious magichemicals. God, you wished that was you right now.

"Idia, deal. You help me get through this class, I'll grab some hot food and go home."

He made a show of hemming and hawing before saying, "Grimm needs to let me hold him when I drop you off, and I will."

Ordinarily, you would have just said "Ask him yourself and don't be weird about it," and Grimm would have simply told him no until sufficiently bribed. But Grimm was still in bed at home, saying you kept him up all night, so instead you bumped Idia with your hip and said "What, you can't think to ask for better pussy to fondle?"

Of course, you just had to say something crass at the moment where everyone went quiet. Even Crewel raised his head and both eyebrows at you. The only reason you didn't get a riding crop to the face and a week in horny detention (where, you assumed, they punished you for being a bad girl indeed) was Idia, rapidly going through every stage of confusion and grief, with a few currently unknown to man. You'd intended to tease him, but that sheer amount of confused, horny misery on his face was just too much, and you laughed so hard you bent over.

And coughed. In a short time, there was no laughter left, only miserable coughing from the depths of your chest that left you on the floor with your eyes watering. Someone thumped your back a few times, and when you yanked your mask off to catch a proper, if shallow breath, your mask was full of a red-streaked, pus coloured slime.

A fur coat was draped over your shoulders as everyone made various noises of disgust. "Class dismissed. Let's get you to the nurses."

~*~*~*~

"How in hell are you still mobile."

"Pettiness and a desire to not freeze to death."

Crewel narrowed his eyes at you. "Both lungs."

"That is what double pneumonia means, Professor."

You could see his whip fingers itching. "Yes, well. You can't come to class like that. And... Is it really that bad in Ramshackle?"

Idia raised a hand. "It was really cold the last time I was there."

"Ugh. I told Crowley we should have razed the place for an expansion on my dog run." He looked at you with a curious mix of genuine fondness and even more genuine disgust. "I'm not putting you up until your place gets fixed, you'll leak all over my furniture. Anyone here going to babysit?"

"I've done perfectly fine in my own dorm, I don't need to become the pet of another dorm."

"Those little fairies said that if you don't stay on bedrest and stay warm, you will die. I am not filling out that paperwork." He looked to you classmates. "Speak up or I'm docking a letter grade."

Silver raised a hand. "I think we could do it but I don't think D- Lilia would let me. Malleus would end up trying to play nurse and skip class."

"Oh god, no, we don't tell him I'm sick until I'm safely ensconced somewhere, he would lose his damn mind and I'd try to strangle him after a week of it."

"There are no spare rooms in Octanivelle. However, I could try some experimental medicines I've been-"

"Jade, no."

Idia was quiet, before speaking up. "I... I don't know if Ignihyde has a spare room, or would be good for healing."

He'd not left your side since your collapse, and gone so full of writhing, barely concealed anxiety he'd broke through the other side and simply shut off. You didn't get it, it wasn't actually anything serious. The nurses had pumped you full of medicine, you'd be up and about a week or two at the most, instead of the month's worth of hospital rooms and bad food it would have been.

Crewel sighed. "Time to start checking the files to see where you can be squeezed."

There was a cough, from the fifth student so quiet despite his size. Everyone had honestly forgotten he was there.

When he spoke up, it was to you, and not anyone else. "There's an unoccupied room down the hall from me. I think the weather in the Savannahclaw dorms will be good for your health. You shouldn't have to stay where you won't be wanted, or get sicker. Would that work?"

You looked at him, assessing. You and him hadn't talked overmuch, and he didn't seem to mind. But as severe as he looked? You could see the sincerity in his offer.

"That should work. Jack, right?"

His ears flicked, and his tail twitched. "Yes."

"Thank you, Jack. You're very kind."

~*~*~*~

Easy to see why the room was empty. You suspected it might have been a storage room, or that there had been a monastic order in the dorm at one point. A single bed just fit the far wall, with a chair, a desk, a bureau, and little else. But the far wall had a large window, and the room felt... nice. And a hell of a lot warmer than than your room in Ramshackle.

"It'll make an excellent sickroom." You set your schoolbag and an entire case of tissues on the desk. "Thank you again, Jack. You sure it won't be any trouble?"

"I've already cleared it with our dorm leader, he said he doesn't care as long as you don't rub phlegm on his things." Jack was a solid block of frown and muscle in the corner. "The window does open, you should keep it that way for circulation. There's a bathroom down the hall, there's showers in there. If you need anything or anyone tries to bother you, please let me know."

"Will do." You were already unpacking the few things in your bag, trying to get them arranged before another coughing fit took you.

"I can help get your things, if you need?" For a dude who was very do-that-shit-yourself, he was being very helpful.

"Idia's grabbing Grimm and anything else I'll need. He'll know what I want."

"I see." Silence, and more interesting ear flicks. "So."

"So?"

"You and him are..." He made a guesture with interlaced fingers.

"Yeah. Jealous?"

He snorted. "No. Just curious. He's a bit..." Hand wiggle.

"I'm a bit too. It works. Would have been nice if he'd gotten the hint before I had a ghost turn me inside out in front of him and everyone else."

"You know that's why you're so sick, right?"

You made a noise that was hard to decipher, that he used as cue to continue. "You never smelled quite right after that happened. Even after the healing. You're always a little..." He moved his hands, trying to grasp the right simile. "Like when a flower's starting to drop petals. Overripe."

How in the hell were you supposed to take that. What do you even say to that? Does everyone know you smell? Does - 

"Oh god, you all know when I'm on the rag."

A single, curt nod, and you put your head in your hands and groaned.

~*~*~*~

A knock on the door

"Who is it?"

"Your worst enemy."

"Get your ass in here, Vil."

Vil had on... good lord. Mask, gloves, face shield. An absurdly fashionable CDC agent. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Vil. Means so much coming from you."

He stayed by the door, ready to flee if a spare germ came floating towards him. "Heard you're out of commission. Thank the seven, I'll get some peace in my life."

You flipped him the bird, but smiled as you did. "Don't say that. I'll made a sheet ladder and mix sputum in your cold cream."

"If you do that I will personally burn your clothes and replace them with something decent that you will hate."

"Try. Come to gloat?"

"Just a bit." He set a large cup with a straw at the very edge of the desk, straining at arm's length as he did. "This should unfuck your throat somewhat."

"Such language!" You waited until he retreated to the door before you took the smoothie. It was... very, very purple, and smelled minty. "Trying to poison me, finally?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I decide to poison you, it's not going to be through something that obvious. You will never see it coming, and then I'll sell your corpse to Floyd and everyone will just think he finally decided to go full crazy and Riddle is next."

You snorted. "Honestly? I think he'd shit his pants if I actually returned the affection. One time I saw Riddle give him a genuine smile and he had to go sit down because he started shaking so bad." That might have been because the smile was caused by Floyd cracking his head on a doorway and falling flat on his ass, but the point still stood.

When he stopped laughing, he turned to leave. "Take at least an extra week to get better, for my sanity. And don't give the creature any, it won't agree with him."

"Shh, I just got him down for his nap-"

Grimm made a horrible snort from your feet and say up. "Food?"

You made a look-what-you-did guesture at Vil, but he left instead of helping you deal with your beloved yowling idiot.

~*~*~*~

You woke up coughing in the dark. It took entirely too long for you to figure out where the hell you were, and why, and you took the offered tissue with great-

"JaySUS FUCKING CHRIST" You jumped back so much it was only Malleus's grip on your arm that kept you from going through the open window.

"People are sleeping, please do not yell."

"Don't yell my ass, how long have you been there?"

He shrugged. "Since before sunset. Ortho was here first."

You leaned around Mal, to see Ortho sitting on the desk, scritching the belly of a drowsing Grimm. "Hello, Yuu. Your fever has gone down half of a degree since I took over."

The audacity of these idiots, you swear. "Both of you go home and go to bed."

"No. You need watching." Mal had not blinked once since you'd woken up, and how about that? His eyes glowed in the dark, or he had very strong eyeshine; either way, there was no iris around the blown out pupil. "You are very ill and need taken care of. I can do that, I took care of Silver when he was ill."

"Mal."

"Yes?"

"Do we need another boundaries talk?"

He frowned. "But you are ill."

"Mal, I will call Lilia and tell him what you are doing right now. I will personally write your grandmother and tell her you're neglecting your studies. I will get Leona down here and he will call you a simp until you go outside and fight him on compulsion."

"Those all sound terrible!"

"Ortho, don't kiss up because you're next. Why are you here and not home charging?"

"Idia wouldn't go home to sleep until I said I would let him know if you got worse."

You opened your mouth, and shut it again. Why's he so worried? You had to physically shove him out the door to go to his next class, looking like his heart would break, and he'd still skipped board games to fidget miserably in the chair Mal now sat in, looking ready to burst into tears every time you coughed.

Ortho seemed to read your mind. "He gets worried when people get sick. I got sick once."

Ah. That explained a hell of a lot that you were too polite to ask.

"... Okay, you can stay."

Mal perked up.

"You go home. I'll never go back to sleep if you keep staring all night, and you do need to sleep some."

Mal's face fell.

"You can come back tomorrow, after class."

He perked back up. "Goodnight, Yuu. I will see you tomorrow!" A brief kiss against your sweating temple, and he was out the same window he most likely came in.

"Hey, Ortho?"

"Yes?"

"If you can dim your lights a little, you can come lie down with me."

~*~*~*~

You were rudely poked awake by a giant asshole.

"Why are you in my nap room." Leona hovered over you with obvious displeasure.

You blinked and sorted yourself. Ortho was crammed between you and the window, hopefully dreaming of electric sheep, and Grimm was still dead asleep, the little bastard. "Jack put me up here because my dorm's a block of ice and I can't stay there on doctor's orders." Crewel might have a doctorate, it's not a lie.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"I did." Jack was behind him, his own link in a chain of hovering displeasure. "You said it was fine as long as she didn't make a mess. I brought yogurt."

"Thank you-" More miserable coughing, with now everyone either rubbing your back or passing you tissues. Except Leona, who simply held back and watched. By the time you were done, he just nodded.

"I'm not moving you, but..."

"What."

"I'm calling in a favour next time Cheka gets pawned off on me. He likes you."

You'd argue that, but you liked the kid. "Aight. Everyone get out, there's too many fucking people in here and I'm discovering new and interesting depths of claustrophobia."

Leona didn't need to be told twice.

"I'll be back after class with your homework. Maybe at lunch with something. Not before then. Stay put."

"Oooo, oo. I'm going with you, big guy." Grimm scampered over. "I'll get bored here all day. You can just nap."

You rolled your eyes "I can just nap. Jack, if he sticks with you, he's going to want to eat everything you do."

"I'll manage."

"Would you like me to stay?" Ortho was finally up, or maybe you hadn't noticed him exiting screensaver mode.

"I'd like you to tell your brother that I'm not going anywhere. Use those exact words."

He nodded, a faint whirr as he did.

"I'll see you guys later, okay? I need more sleep."

~*~*~*~

Someone gently shook you awake, and said someone was leaning in the window.

"Hey, Kalim." Why'd you have to be the center of attention when sick, and therefore couldn't kiss anyone to thank them for said attention.

"Hi! I asked Jamil to make extra lunch for you!" He set a covered dish on your knees.

"Thank you. Was he okay with that?"

"He was when I said it was for you. Everyone's heard that you're laid up!"

"News travels fast. Am I about to get even more popular?"

"You're always popular because you're great. Feel better! Jamil said he'll have extras tomorrow too. See you!" And off he went.

You needed to tell Jamil thank you, but he would probably just tell you to just stop talking about abolishing the monarchy instead. (Not because he didn't support the idea, but because he didn't want to be punished for not keeping the idea from Kalim.) What did he make, anyway?

"Oh, curry. Sweet."

~*~*~*~

The days progressed roughly the same. Drowsing most of the morning, lunch, more drowsing in between laptop stuff, maybe actual sleep. Coughing up far less gunk as the days went on. And entertaining an absurd fucking amount of people. Everyone seemed determined to check on you, even people who you'd never seen before in your life; Ruggie made something like 10k madol charging people to try and see you through the window before you cursed him out. Your Heartslabyul boys dropped in every couple of days to relate shit that they hadn't simply texted you (along with a pile of pastries from Trey and handwritten instructions on recovery from Riddle, the latter far less appreciated than the former). Floyd dropped in once to mostly complain about how you weren't around to eat the mushrooms he picked out of his food, tried to convince you to let him carry you over to the Monstro Lounge himself, and when you refused, kissed the tips of your fingers and left pouting. Jack, true to his word, dropped in at least twice a day to deliver food and homework, and once spent forty-five minutes glowering at anyone approaching the bathrooms while you took a shower that ached on your oversensitive skin.

Some people were far more regular. Every day like clockwork, Malleus perched in your window and was the world's friendliest, most affectionate vulture. Twenty minutes after that, Idia would come in, sit in the chair, and exude such concentrated grief that you were at a loss for what to do beyond asking if he wanted to talk about it, to which he would shake his head and simply resume sitting there, tapping away at his screens until the next panicked flurry of activity every time you made a unhealthy noise.

"You are allowed to go home. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm much better than I was."

He just shook his head.

"I will come get you if something happens," Mal offered.

More head shaking, and a "no" from his tablet, before adding, "Never again."

"I'll call Ortho and make him tag you out."

"I said no. And Ortho is with Lilia."

Lilia, small, beloved pest, has what you like to think of as a compulsive need to parent. He was god knows how old, had raised at least three of your classmates that you know of, and seemed to consider you his newest fledgling. After hearing about what happened, he'd taken it into his own hands to fix Ramshackle to... well, not OSHA compliance, but you wouldn't be cold.

"Does he know how much I appreciate it? Appreciate all of you, really?"

"Of course he does. He loves talking about you. He wears that shirt you made all the time."

"Which one? I've made him seven so far."

"When do I get one?"

"When they make T shirts that'll fit over your horns." Something drooped in the corner of your eye, and you looked over to see Idia shaking himself upright. "Hey, babe. When was the last time you slept?"

He took an embarrassingly long time to lie through his teeth and say "Last night" through his tablet.

"Yeah, no. Get over here." You took a moment to drag Mal's hand down before he could just do a sleeping spell, or something equally well meaning but deeply inappropriate.

"No."

"Please?"

You held your arms out until he couldn't resist, and soon you'd arranged his head on your chest.

"You hear anything more sloshing around in there?"

He shook his head.

"I am on the mend. I... don't really know what happened before. And I sure as hell don't know what you did to get him back. But I'm not going anywhere. So rest." 

He gave a faint nod.

"I will wake you, if need be?"

To both yours and Mal's surprise, Idia answered him with a pat on his leg.

"Thank you."

Idia was already asleep.

~*~*~*~

"Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what 'cyanosis' is?" You’d been stroking Idia's head for hours. Or minutes. Time flies, and you could not tell the difference.

"Not immediately, no."

"It's caused by a few different things. Hypoxia, hypothermia, that sort of thing. The blood in you doesn't have enough oxygen. So little that, instead of red, parts of your body turn blue or grey due to the lack of oxygen."

"I see." He looked intently, much as you did, at Idia's greyish nails and blue lips. "That doesn't seem survivable."

"Not if it's severe, no." The flames from Idia's head curled around your fingers, grasping at you even when he's not aware of it. "It's not something you see on someone as... lively as him. It's something I think about a lot. Whether it's to do with his magic, or that curse he won't elaborate on."

"I've heard rumours."

"Oh?"

"The Shroud family curse. Nothing concrete, for an origin. Madness, misfortune, and illness have plagued the family throughout history. Add in a trend of cousin marriage beyond the norm for upper-class families due to people not wanting to subject their loved ones to a cursed bloodline, and the tree is more of an notorious, ingrown shrub."

"That just sounds like shitty genetics and what happens to every family as the years go on, not a curse."

Mal shrugged. "is there a difference? Even in the sleeping curse my grandmother bestowed so easily, much of the power came for the fear of it. A girl grew up without her family because of the fear of it."

"True." You leaned down and kissed the top of Idia's head, feeling an unconscious smile as you did. "There must be a little hereditary something. He gets so anxious about this beautiful hair! He hates people looking at him, and he doesn't even realize it's because he's the most beautiful thing in any room he walks in."

"Thing?" Mal raised an amused eyebrow.

"Even the finest art in a museum doesn't have the benefit of being actually alive."

"Your capacity for love and beauty is enviable. Hunt would be jealous." He reached out and brushed a stray lock away from Idia's face, and you could feel another smile against your chest.

~*~*~*~

"Aight, so we've patched up holes in the walls, insulated the windows - Idia here," Lilia clapped Idia on the small of his back, causing him to make a distressed squeak - "smart boy, found some solar panels and we've got electricity up in your room, the kitchen and the bathroom by your room, not just the front room anymore! The rest we got the ghosts to help seal off to hold the heat in. I got you a space heater for your room, so you don't have to do a fire the whole time, and as long as you don't open the windows back up before spring, you won't freeze."

"Thanks, guys. One question."

"Yeah?"

"What did you do to my room."

Lilia smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a walking prank and can't keep out of there, what did you do."

"Nothing this time! I promise!" He held his hands up. "At least you can stay home for the next few days, Crewel says you gotta be back Monday or he's going to start making funeral prep."

"I'm literally better, but if he does that I get to help. Always wanted to plan my funeral, I have very specific ideas about what flowers to use and preferred corpse disposal."

"Maybe you should go upstairs and not talk about funerals and their associated things."

"Sure thing, dear."

After settling in your room, most everyone cleared out, even Idia. The only person still there was Jack, looking this way and that with a stern look.

"Hey, Jack?"

He grunted in assent.

"So like, why'd you put me up and help take care of me? We've hardly talked before then."

He sighed. "You've been very nice to me."

"You sure? I'd remember you."

"Uh."

"Jack?"

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day, if chilly in the wind. The sun was warm, the trees turning, and you just came across one of your best friends.

"Hi buddy! Are you lost today?"

The very large dog shook it's head and pressed into your knees.

"Okay, you wanna walk with me? Come on."

You'd found this enormous white Malamute wandering campus the first time a few months ago, and after checking in with a few other students who kept laughing when you asked if he was their dog, simply decided to enjoy your new friend and run and play. He was very smart, and initially standoffish, but could not resist a friendly face and good ear scritches. Today, you and Buddy here simply ran around like a couple of idiots after a lost soccer ball until it was time to go eat.

"I'll see you later, buddy. Bye!" You held out a hand, and after a firm shake, kissed the point where his snout met the rest of his face. "Stay safe, I love you."

Buddy made a low grumble and rubbed his paws over his face, and you went off to supper.

~*~*~*~

"You couldn't have told me?"

"How do you explain that? 'Hey, I run around as a wolf sometimes and you mistook me for a lost dog so you lovebombed me and I was at a loss and by the second time it was too awkward to say anything'?"

"I've been playing with you for months! I let you run with Crewel's dalmatians!"

"I run with them as a person, too, that's nothing special."

You pinched your nose. "Everyone must think I'm an idiot."

"I'll deal with them. I'm sorry, Yuu."

"I know. You are my good boy, after all."

His tail started wagging in spite of itself, and you laughed.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #jack howl #idia shroud #malleus draconia

[sweetestlamb]

Fever Dream

Summary: Seojun's perspective on that kiss that broke his brain. Header by the ever talented @ewolfwitchwisegirl. 

He doesn't know how he'll be about to contain his tumultuous desires now, not when he knows how she tastes after she's been crying and how her soft body feels molded against his on the solid wall, the hard surface gratuitously keeping him from dissolving into a puddle of goo on the floor. He can feel the vague shape of her breast pressing into his chest and that's enough to make his thoughts stutter, short circuit, fracture and then reboot.

She was supposed to just be teasing, that glint in her eyes was meant to be a promise for another day.

Kissing Kang Sujin, that was a fever dream that he woke up from too many times to count with the ghost of her lips on his and her debilitating moans still washing over his sliver of self control. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he wanted her, in less than innocent ways at least to himself. Informing her was something different altogether because it was clear that she was inexperienced, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen but he knew that she'd never shared herself with anyone else before.

Not before him, and what had he even done to be this lucky? He wasn't sure but he had no intention of stopping to find out.

So he lets her intrude on his space knowing that she won't cross the invisible line they've drawn, hugs are becoming more accepted as are kisses in certain places- cheeks, brows, chins- but never the lips, that is uncharted waters for them and he's nervous about being her potential first kiss. His first had been at a party and he'd barely sat down before they were spinning a bottle and a girl he'd only spoken to twice was leaning over and sloppily devouring his mouth.

He had been disgusted in the moment, feeling violated but everyone's cheers made him feel as if his feelings aren't valid, boys were slapping him heartily on the shoulder congratulating him on kissing the hottest girl at school and he pushed down the nausea he felt at having his first kiss stolen, grinning and showboating even though he just wanted to wash his mouth out with soap.

First kisses are special, an awakening of passion and shifting of innocence- the two meeting and transforming into something new.

The press of soft slightly strawberry scented lips- the last remnants of her lipgloss- on his own chapped mouth plunges him into a blistering cold vacuum and his body can do nothing but be, swimming in a submerging bubble of unawareness.

It's so delicate that he barely believes that it's happening, surely he fell asleep after school before going to work and he's in his bedroom right now ignoring the sounds of his blaring alarm much to his dismay.

This can't be real.

He stiffens harder when she tilts her head to the side slotting their lips together, hers opening the barest amount and he's still lost in a daze because it feels so real, her skin is warm and smooth and her hair smells like fresh cut flowers and those adorable full cheeks are flushed against his skin and how can a figment of his imagination be this vivid?

Then it's over and he feels light-headed, his body floating like dandelions blown apart in the wind, every part of him reeling and trying to come back down to earth.

He can vaguely hear words through the roaring in his ears and when his eyes heavily slide open she's all motion, a sweep of red along those round cheeks and he reads her rapidly moving lips not trusting his ears to accurately decipher her words.

I'm sorry.

It won't happen again.

That ultimately knocks him off his cloud and he finally looks at her- even if it's a dream he desperately needs it to happen again, several times, still feeling the distant sensation of her skin on his and clarity rings through the fog in his mind piercing through his thoughts like the beams from a lighthouse until he can see clearly, this wasn't a dream or a fantasy.

Terrified to let this moment slip through his fingers, he tightens the digits on her thin back dragging her closer and speaking despite his throat feeling like it's made entirely of sandpaper, "Don't apologize you short circuited my brain, come here."

He's always devastatingly honest with her because he can see the way that doubt looms behind those eyes, he plans to hold on to her tighter too now that he knows she wants this, wants him.

Kissing her is liberating because immediately it's messy and uncoordinated and he can feel her lips spreading into a smile and a chuckle escapes his lungs, there's no pressure to be perfect or to be something sexy and mature that they haven't mastered yet. When he breaks the kiss to smother her in pecks, his heart blooms at the melodic giggle he's rewarded with. This is enough.

So he tells himself prepared to draw back and slip back into the innocent touches they're more used to.

That's why he's unprepared for her to grab his face and tug him closer, back into a kiss but the mood has changed now there's a static charge that hadn't manifested before that is now thick in the particles between them. He struggles not to freeze, hands splayed easily across the slim expanse of her body- she feels so slight and fragile in his arms and he squeezes her harder comforted by the strength he feels in her bones.

She won't break.

She keeps twisting and turning and he's docile in her exploration, no sudden movements lest he break the fragility of this moment.

He's shocked when she growls and pulls away harshly, his lips are still puckered up at her sudden removal.

"What are you doing?" Her annoyance is detectable despite the breathless tone and it makes his body squirm, he's too aware of how close they are right now.

He blinks, "What?"

He doesn't know what's wrong but the scowl on her face tells him that he's going to find out.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

He blinks again. Then swallows, hard.

Wasn't that abundantly evident? He was trying everything in his power not to overwhelm her with how badly he wants to kiss her, lick into her mouth and taste her tongue, become a flavor on her taste buds and hear the pretty sounds she makes as they succumb to temptation.

"Is this a trick question?"

She peers up at him with narrowed eyes, her lips a distracting plush pink.

"You aren't kissing back, you're just letting me kiss you. I thought you would be an expert." She shifts slightly glancing away from him, a tight line in her jaw.

He preens, internally.

"Why would you think that?" He has an idea but he wants to hear her say it, to see that flush on her pretty face.

She glares at him but it's lacking the usual fire, it makes his body simmer instead of burn.

"This isn't your first kiss, according to the bathroom walls you've kissed twenty-five girls at school and a few guys."

She states this information in a matter of fact tone but he can see the tightness in her face, he smooths his hands up and down her back in languid strokes.

"Don't believe anything you read on those walls. In our bathroom it says that you only kiss older boys, is that true?" He just means to tease her a little but she shifts coyly this time, he watches entranced as she rubs her index finger across her pouty bottom lip. He forgets what question he asked.

"Is that why you're not kissing back? Should I go find someone older?"

He's not stupid he knows exactly what she's doing, but knowing doesn't stop him from reacting or falling into the obvious trap, he knows that he needs to work on his impulse control but the thought of her kissing anyone else makes him want to punch a wall until his knuckles are sore.

"Shut up." It's not the best retort but it makes the coy smile on her face slide off and her eyes widen at his tone, the shock only lasts for a second-lighting fast before she stands taller, somehow towering over him while being inches shorter the oxymoron that she is.

"Why don't you make me?"

It's a clear challenge and he contemplates being the bigger person and not rising to her bait, maybe it's time for some maturity and thoughtfulness.

Her groin bumps into his as she presses harder against him and that small movement chucks his restraint out the window, hurling it down to the pavement. He grabs the back of her skull, his hand big enough to cover her whole head and without hesitation he slams into her, heady when she gasps giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth and get his first taste of her, no longer holding back unable to even attempt.

Her tongue is still in her mouth and he gently coaxes her into moving with him, curling around the nimble muscle and drawing her back into his moist cavern she follows him and it's awkward at first, their rhythm is off- too fast, too slow but then they get it right after numerous failed attempts and she melts into him, her blunt nails scratching at the column of his neck and he hisses at the prickling sensation letting out a grunt of his own.

They kiss long and deep, swallowing each drop of each other and then soft and chaste recovering from the lack of oxygen making it to their brains, she keeps making these delicious little sounds and when he brushes against the nape of her neck she bows into him boneless and he stores that away in a vault in his mind.

He doesn't know who makes the first move but their hips start to move together, chasing something unknown.

They are undulating against each other on the wall and he prays that nobody comes because everything feels too good and he might implode if they have to stop. He almost whines when she breaks away, the loud pop of their lips separating making his head ring.

"You're too good at this. Did you really kiss that many girls?"

He stares at her, glowering at him after her biting accusation and he can't help the laughter that swells in his lungs, grunting when she punches him in his stomach.

"If all that practice made me so good then shouldn't you be happy? You get the benefits."

She pushes him away, staring hard before walking away briskly, her short skirt momentarily distracts him with it's flouting movements.

He takes a moment to recover, adjusting himself discretely before he chases after her throwing his arms over her shoulder and smirking when she folds too easily into his embrace.

"Let me go." He raises an eyebrow as she moves closer to him contrary to her demand.

"No. Where are you going?"

She huffs before looking over her shoulder.

"To get more practice too."

Her words crash over him and instantly he pushes her into the wall unleashing an onslaught of tickles on her sensitive skin, she squeals and tries to escape his attack but he has her right where he wants her.

"Take it back!" He shouts digging his fingers into her sides listening to the staccato hiccups of her full belly chortle.

There are tears streaming down her face, but she still screams, "Never!"

He wishes he could bottle this up and keep it forever.

He calls Chorong on his break, thoughts of the kiss still swirling in his mind he's bursting at the seams to share his happiness. His best friend answers on the second ring, sounds of chewing loudly blasting through the speakers.

"Ah Seojun!"

He smiles at the enthusiasm, it's nice having a friend who is always so happy to hear from him.

"We kissed." He planned on setting the story up more but the words force their way out before he can formulate a detailed retelling.

"What? Already?!" Chorong's shocked exclamation forces him to move the phone away from his ear lest he injure his precious ear drums. He brings it back when it sounds like the other boy is finished assaulting him.

"What are you taking about? We took our time." He argues, he has been waiting to kiss Sujin for weeks now thinking that this day would never come, why the hell was Chorong acting like they jumped the gun?

"Took your time? It's been one day!"

He blinks down at the phone, taking a deep breath before replying with clipped tone, "Who exactly do you think I kissed?" He impatiently waits for the incorrect answer.

Chorong sighs like he's the one acting weird and the answer is obvious, "That girl from school, the one that everyone says you're going to date."

He rolls his eyes up to ceiling taking another breath before responding, "You know I like Sujin why would I kiss some other girl?"

There's a long pause and then he hears a deep swallow and he barely moves the phone away in time before Chorong is loudly replying sounding beyond exasperated, "Well you liked Suho before and you got over him quickly! Your feelings change like the weather how am I supposed to keep up?!"

He sputters at the phone indignant, what the hell was he going on about? Liked who??

"What the hell are you talking about?!" He bellows back, slamming his fist into the counter top.

In the end, he scares away some potential customers as they're walking through the door and his boss threatens to fire him.

He doesn't care about any of it though because he knows what Kang Sujin tastes like.

#true beauty #bmtl #back with another cut scene #seojuns pov #feel free to skip this because the kiss gets steamier #it spiralled out of control

[myherowritings]

Fact or Fiction?

— “OKAY get this : pro hero bakugou & pro hero reader are shipped by literally everyone bc it’s painfully obvious that the boy likes her & people keep tagging him in n*fw stories abt reader & him & he reads one & literally cannot look at reader the same & she goes “you’re acting weird. oh no, did you read the fanfics?” because SHE HAS TOO. anyways they finally end up getting together & maybe n*fw???" by anonymous.

pairing: pro hero!bakugou x fem!reader word count: 3.0k genre: pro hero au, humor/crack, smut warnings: explicit language, masturbation (bakugou), imagined oral?, bakugou is just fucking horny y’all, 18+

a/n: tysm for the request! it’s not full on heavy fucking (i’m still warming up to writing that...so prob in my next smut fic hehe) and it’s more crack than smut lolol, but i hope you like it! [y/h/n = your hero name]

GROUND ZERO AND Y/H/N SPOTTED IN KANAGAWA PREFECTURE!

Bakugou rolled his eyes. That was the headline following a Pro Hero meeting at a neighboring ward just a few weeks ago. Of course you were spotted together. You were both Pro Heroes after all.

SECRET ROMANTIC GETAWAY?: GROUND ZERO AND Y/H/N CAUGHT HOLDING HANDS AT MOUNT MITAKE

He definitely was not holding your hand. You simply dropped your wallet--for someone so good on the field, you sure were rather clumsy--and he handed it back to you. Easy as that. It was only the angle of the photograph that made it look like your fingers were interlocked.

Y/H/N SPOTTED WITH A HICKEY AFTER HER DATE WITH GROUND ZERO

There were many issues with this headline.

For one, he did not take you out on a date. Deku invited you, Iida, and Bakugou out for dinner, but of course the paparazzi captured pictures of only the two of you, making it look like a one-on-one date.

And for two, there was no hickey anywhere in sight. You had simply banged your jaw on the table while reaching down for a spoon you dropped, causing a small bruise to form on the place your jawline met your neck.

(Besides, if Katsuki were to give you a hickey--which he wouldn’t even dream of--it sure as hell wouldn’t look as sloppy as that.)

GROUND ZERO PROPOSES TO Y/H/N?!

Now this one was just bullshit.

TOP 5 HOTTEST “GROUND Y/H/N” STORIES YOU NEED TO READ

Bakugou froze at the last headline, cautiously eyeing the link before scoffing in both curiosity and disgust and exiting the window.

He knew what the article meant by stories. He was tagged in them more times than he could count. Plus, he wasn’t stupid-- Katsuki knew that people shipped his hero persona with yours and that some fans went a little overboard with the art and writing. But honestly, he didn’t pay that much mind.

In fact, he gave little to no fucks about what people chose to do in their free time, but tagging you and him in them and commenting links for you to see? That was a different story. Doing so was obnoxious and revolting and if he ever found out someone made you uncomfortable by exposing you to a the obscenity, he would make sure they suffer the consequences.

He hoped you didn’t see any of that shit in your lifetime and he sure as hell didn’t want to either.

So, of course, the universe heard his plea and decided to give him the exact opposite.

“Can’t you people fucking keep these to yourselves?” growled Bakugou when the first thing he saw as he logged onto his social medias were notifications of tags and links to obscene creations on his page.

There were drawings of him and Deku, him and Uravity, and even him and the half-and-half bastard. But the overwhelming majority of the pictures were of him and Y/H/N. Some of the art was normal enough and most of them were incredibly well drawn and pure. But a handful of them were--to put it nicely--lewd as fuck.

And Katsuki couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty was his eyes wandered from the exposed swell of your breasts to the curves of your hip and lower to the smooth expanse of…

He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his phone onto his sofa with a disgusted snort. Even though it was only a drawing, he felt terrible for indulging in it like that.

“Dammit, Katsuki,” he scolded himself, running his fingers through his hair as he tried not to picture how you really looked underneath your hero costume.

Now was not the time to be wondering if your skin would feel as soft under the caress of his fingertips as he had imagined. (Yet, here he was.) Nor was it the time to pick up his phone and stare at the obscene drawing of Ground Zero and Y/H/N he was tagged it. (Yet, he found himself walking over to his sofa and doing just that.)

And it was definitely not the time to be tempted by the link to the “5 Hottest” fanfictions written about the two of you. (Yet, two seconds later, the curiosity--and horniness--won over and he there it was on his screen.)

“Don’t fucking do it,” threatened Bakugou, glaring at his reflection on the darkened cellphone.

But either he wasn’t as strong-willed as he thought or his logic was rendered completely useless whenever it came to you, because he found himself reading through a 20,000-word long story about a sex pollen quirk.

In the story, a villain with said quirk attacked you on the field and the only way to relieve yourself of the unbearable pain was-- Well…an orgasm. And for some godforsaken reason, Ground Zero was the only one able to provide you with that release.

It was ridiculous and would never happen in real life, and yet something about the writing made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away.

As Bakugou continued to read, a vivid image of you sprawled out underneath him flashed before his eyes and he stifled a groan. His throat felt dry as the Ground Zero in the story trailed kisses from the swell on your breast to your sensitive navel and lower still, hands firmly gripping your hips to keep you from squirming under the assault of his tongue as your fingers tugged at his hair.

“Y/N… Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his one hand clutched his cellphone as he continued reading on, while his other hand made its way down to his semi-erect member.

His touch started light and feathery, almost tentative in a way, as he ran his fingers up and down his length in repetitive strokes. As his cock hardened, Bakugou grew more impatient and increased the pressure around his shaft, thighs tensing at the sudden spark of pleasure.

In the story, he had just finished eating you out and, to return the favor, you dropped onto your knees in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and he mimicked the motions, pretending it was your mouth around his head and not his own fingers.

Oh, how he wished it was your tongue instead of his own fucking fingers…

His vision grew hazy as his phone slipped out of his grasp, forgetting the fanfiction and picturing what you would do to him instead. Your eyes would be wide open as you peered up at him through your lashes, lips wrapped around his shaft as you took him deeper into your mouth.

As his thursts grew more and more uncontrolled, a low moan slipped out of him when he gently squeezed his fingers around his member one last time.

The moment he reached his climax, Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut as his chest rose and fell in shallow pants. He was sweaty and flushed and sprawled out on the sofa, praying you would be there between his legs when he opened his eyes.

But of course, that wasn’t the case. And all Bakugou could do was laid spent on his back, wondering how the fuck he was ever supposed face you after that happened.

“Well, fuck…”

- - - - -

It was a Saturday evening and Bakugou and some of your other Pro Hero friends were supposed to meet up at your house, but that wasn’t what ended up happening.

Instead, the moment Katsuki texted the group chat that he was almost there, every single one of your friends began making excuses as to why they could no longer show. Deku had to babysit, Yaoyorozu had a last minute dinner date, Shouto was visiting his family… And the list went on, each excuse more pathetic than the last.

And so, that was how you and Bakugou found yourselves eating Chinese take out on your sofa while a shitty reality TV show played in the background.

“So,” you said, plopping a piece of steamed broccoli in your mouth and chewing slowly. “How was your day?”

He avoided your gaze, glaring down at his container of chicken and rice. The whole evening so far was filled with one awkward encounter after another-- Entirely his fault, he could admit. But he couldn’t help it! How the fuck was Bakugou supposed to look you in the eye and pretend everything was normal when just last night he jerked off to a sex story about Ground Zero and Y/H/N?

There was simply no way.

“I’m fine,” he managed, voice gruff as he almost choked on his words.

You stared curiously at him and he tried his hardest not to look your way. He knew one look into your eyes and he would be stuck wondering how they looked rolling back into your head as he fucked you senseless.

“Why are you acting so weird?” you asked, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Are you mad at me?”

Katsuki shook his head, pressing himself against the arm rest. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would disappear into it.

“Then what’s the matter?”

You set your food aside on the coffee table and turned your body towards him, tucking your feet underneath your legs as you leaned forward. When he jumped at your brief touch, you studied him with unwavering intensity.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” you said, sticking your tongue out.

He winced at the sight of your pink flesh. God-fucking-dammit.

You pouted when he didn’t respond, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Okay, fine. I’m only kidding-- Please, tell me!”

“Nothing’s the matter,” Bakugou lied through clenched teeth.

“Sure. You’re acting like I was after I read all those--” you cut yourself off, eyes widening in realization. “No way!”

“What?” he asked defensively.

There was no way you could have meant that you read those obscene stories… Right?

A teasing grin grew on your face as you scooted closer to him, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t tell me you did it.”

Bakugou jerked away, your close proximity and warm breath too tantalizing after the events of last night.

“What did I do?” he repeated.

“You know what.”

He had a feeling he did know, but he damn well hoped he was wrong. “No I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at his avoidance before nodding understandingly. Giving him a little more room, you leaned back against the sofa and folded on leg across the other. (Unfortunately for Bakugou, all that did was draw more attention to your exposed thighs-- Or, as the fanfiction called it, “a long expanse of smooth skin leading to a delectable center.”)

“Remember that one week around Deku’s birthday when I was ignoring you?” you asked suddenly.

He snorted at the memory. “Yeah. You didn’t reply to my messages for days and when we saw each other at his birthday dinner, you turned into a bumbling mess and tried to leave the room.”

To this day, Katsuki still wasn’t certain what exactly had happened that caused you to avoid him like that, but he has a sinking suspicion he was about to find out.

“Exactly!” you agreed. “I got flustered whenever you were around and could hardly think straight.” You turned your body towards him once more, crossing your arms across your chest and accidentally pushing your breasts up. (Not that he noticed.) “Me back then? That’s how you’re acting right now!”

His nose crinkled indignantly. “Bullshit! That doesn’t describe me at all.”

“Oh, really?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hmm,” you drawled, leaning forward and giving him a clear sight of your cleavage. Bakugou almost choked on air at the sudden assault. “If that’s true, then why have you been staring at my boobs the whole time we were talking? And why does your vein look like its about to pop out of your neck from your overwhelming self-control?”

“And why are you spewing all these lies?!”

You smiled knowingly and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to wipe the look off your face with an explosion or with a kiss.

“They’re not lies. Do you know how I know that?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. There was no reason to argue any longer. “Hmph.”

“Because I was once in your shoes, too, young grasshopper,” you said serenely. Before he could get mad at you for fucking around like that, you continued. “I know you read those stories.”

This time, there was no almost-- He really did choke in surprise. You stared at him in alarm, moving closer to gently pat his upper back as he coughed up the fucking air. As if today wasn’t embarrassing enough…

“What stories?” he wheezed, trying to save face.

The word was such a vague term. It could have referred to many things. Maybe you got tired of hearing stories about how great of a Pro Hero Ground Zero was… No. That didn’t make sense even to him.

“Oh, come on. You don’t have to play dumb with me, Bakugou. You know what I’m talking about. And I know you’ve read them-- It’s written all over your face!”

Bakugou made an indignant noise of protest, but what you said next shocked him into silence.

“I know that look on your face very well… Because I’ve read them, too.”

He could only blink in response.

“After I read one, I couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks!” you said, shaking your head with an embarrassed, yet amused, smile. “When I saw you at Deku’s birthday party, I couldn’t even glance your way without thinking about ‘the beads of sweat framing your flushed face’ or ‘the way your red eyes darkened at the captivating sight sprawled out underneath you’.”

An angry blush invaded his cheeks and made its way to his neck and ears as the image flooded his head. Bakugou felt an uncomfortable heat as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. But nothing in the world could prepare him for what you were about to say.

“And don’t even get me started on your ‘big tiddies’,” you huffed, pursing your lips disdainfully.

There was one beat of silence… Two…

“My big what?” he forced out.

You shrugged drumming your fingertips along the couch cushion. “You know-- It’s what your fans call your pectoral muscles.”

If it were possible to die from embarrassment, Katsuki was sure it was bound to happen to him within the next few seconds.

First, you admitted to reading those lewd stories about the two of you. Second, you recited direct quotes about what was most likely his orgasm-face verbatim. And third, you were talking about tits while yours were resting comfily atop your crossed arms.

You tilted your head to the side, deep in thought. “Now that I look at them… They are rather big. I bet they’re bigger than mine.”

Well, if yours were anything like the drawing he saw yesterday, he would have to say you were wrong. Utterly and completely wrong.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Bakugou muttered under his breath as he eyed your breasts, only loud enough for him to hear.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

Shrugging, you brushed off his comment with a pensive look on your face. “Your fans’ description of your chest is so spot on, I’m beginning to wonder if the other things they’ve said are facts too.”

“What other things have you heard?”

“That you have a nice ass. But just one look at your butt in those jeans is enough to prove them right.”

Bakugou’s embarrassment faded away at the compliment. He did have a nice ass. And he damn well worked hard for it too. He puffed up in his seat at your praise while you rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Yours is pretty nice, too.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sticking your tongue out at his teasing. God, if he saw that fucking tongue one more time tonight… He wasn’t sure what was bound to happen. “You know what else they said? That you’re packing.”

Your eyes flitted downwards to his jeans and he shifted in his seat to subconsciously give you a clearer view. You made a quiet nose of surprise but didn’t back away, instead meeting his gaze with a darkened look.

Only the sound of the static from the forgotten television played as neither of you wanted to move and break the fragile moment. When you swallowed slowly, taking your plush lower lip between your teeth, Bakugou decided he was done with letting you have the upper hand.

“You know,” Katsuki said slowly, his voice so gruff it startled even himself, “I guess there’s only one way to find out if that’s true or not.”

The air was thick as you crossed and uncrossed your legs. “W-What exactly are you saying?”

Bakugou smirked. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You puffed your cheeks up in a pout that did nothing to help Katsuki’s thinning self-control.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, but a loud-mouthed asshole got on my nerves.”

He scoffed in laughter, taken aback by your blunt tone. Shrugging as you sulked, he warned, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baka.”

“Oh, I can finish just fine,” you remarked with a challenging look in your eyes. “Don’t you worry about me. And I bet when I’m finished, you’ll see it won’t be like the lewd stories you’ve read.”

Tilting his head to the side, he met your gaze without backing down. “It won’t?”

“Nope. It’ll be better. Because it’s the real thing.”

“Is that a fact?”

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer to Bakugou and craned your neck up so your face was mere inches from his. Using his own words against him, you replied, “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

And it was safe to say that, yes, the real thing was leagues better than the stories could ever imagine it to be.

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