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sugawara-sweetheart · 4 years
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Sakusa, sakusa, sakusa👉👈 54&58 size kink and cockwarming (from the smut list) 25 “I heard you crying” (from the kill list) 30 pregnancy (from ur fluff list) FAGSGSG I HOPE TRIPLE SAKUSA IS ALLOWED WHAHAHAHHA Thank u babes❤️🥺🥺
i hope you enjoy! thanks for requesting liyah❤️
fmk & prompts | sakusa kiyoomi
warnings: nsfw, size kink, cockwarming
fuck:
54. size kink
58. cockwarming
“take it.” sakusa’s words are a harsh hiss as you cry out, the burn too great even though you’d only sunk down on his cockhead. he was huge- long and thick, his cock traced with prominent veins and it always hurts to be practically split apart on his dick. “come on, you can take it.” he watches hungrily with his obsidian eyes, taking in your walls being stretched apart. one of his hand press down on your hips, the other rubbing soothing circles to your clit.
“k-kiyoomi!” you cry out, tears welling in your eyes as you force yourself to take more. but you know sakusa, you know he doesn’t care how long it takes or how many times your pussy starts to convulse around him, your wetness leaking down his cock as you cream all over him, you will take all of him- every single thick inch.
by the time you do you’re already tired, panting and your slick running all down your thighs and dripping over sakusa as you feel so fucking full, your cunt stuffed full with his long, thick cock. every thing feels so sensitive, every inch of his dick pressing against your walls and his cockhead almost nudging your cervix as sakusa exhales, head falling back at how good it feels so be surrounded by your warm walls.
“kiyoomi, no more. not yet.” you mumble, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. he nods as he wraps his arms around you, running his hands soothingly over your back.
“that’s okay. we can stay like this.” he murmurs, pressing a small kiss to the crook of your neck.
marry:
30. pregnancy/baby
you know sakusa isn’t the most natural parent. anxiety, worries and uncertainties had nibbled away at him for nine months and now that he’s a father- a complete unexpected surprise- he’s even more thrown off, every action around his newborn daughter uncertain and wracked with nerves. but you know he’s trying and that’s enough, a smile settling on your face as you watch him feed your daughter with the milk bottle, his big hands carefully supporting the baby’s soft head, his dark eyes staring down into his daughter’s identical orbs.
“omi, now you have to burp her.” you say gently, stroking his bicep as sakusa exhales, handing you the milk bottle as he raises the baby and rests her against his shoulder, rubbing her small fragile back as she gurgles. “that’s it.” you smile, sakusa glancing at you and the corners of his lips twitching with an uncertain smile. a little burp releases from the baby, followed by the white froth of milk vomit, spewing all over sakusa’s shoulder as his body physically recoils, his face filling with disgust as you gasp.
“what the-”
“oh no, kiyoomi-” but you’re surprised when he merely forces an exhale despite the vein throbbing in his temple and his lip grimaced as he cradles his daughter, wiping away from the saliva and vomit from her little chin.
“better?” you’re stunned to see sakusa smile, almost cooing at his baby before he looks at you, eyes wide with pleading. “y/n, please get that vomit off my shoulder right now before i’m sick myself.” you can’t help but laugh as his lips stretch wider, a small chuckle leaving him.
kill:
25. “i heard you crying.”
it’s always like this.
harsh words. cold glares. an emptiness that has you questioning yourself, asking yourself why the fuck you’re still there. the tears sting as you hold yourself because sakusa is never there to do it for you. he’s never there to apologise.
you sniff and wipe the tears away when the door creaks open behind you, clearing your throat to hope your voice isn’t thick with tears. your body feels cold with the tension heavy in the room. it’s always like this.
“i heard you crying.” it’s a cold statement.
“kiyoomi,” sakusa’s brows furrow slightly as you turn to face him, his dark eyes empty whilst yours are bloodshot and teary. “do you love me? i-i don’t know if you do.” he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t say yes or no to what you thought was a simple question. but the answer is clear in the cold glares, the iciness of his voice, how he stiffens and forcibly resists the urge to recoil when you touch him, how he just looks so utterly bored. it isn’t hard to tell.
you cry harder and sakusa just looks uncomfortable.
“i don’t like you crying.” is all he says before he leaves the room, the door snapping shut quietly behind him.
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scribble-blog · 4 years
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Soulmate AU part 3!!
First • Previous • Here • Next
Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!
Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!
Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”
Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.
“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”
“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.
“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”
“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”
“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”
“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.
“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”
“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.
“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”
“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”
“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”
That does make Marinette feel better.
“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”
“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”
“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”
“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”
Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”
Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”
“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.
“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”
“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”
Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”
Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”
She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”
———
Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.
But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.
“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.
Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”
Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”
He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.
“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“
“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.
“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”
“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.
“You kept trying to kill me.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“
“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”
Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.
Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.
And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.
Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”
Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”
“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”
Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”
“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”
Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.
He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.
He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.
One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.
All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.
TAGLIST:
@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person
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kookoosbunnynose · 4 years
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Pairing -> Officer!Reader x BadBoy!Jungkook (ft. Reader x Yoongi)
Genre -> Angst | Smut | Fluff
Rating -> Mature (18+)
Word Count -> 14.5k
Playlist -> Looks Red, Tastes Blue
Warnings -> Major Character Death | Grief | Poor Coping Mechanisms | Mentions of Alcohol Abuse | Mentions of Smoking (tobacco) | Unrequited Love | Emotional Constipation | Explicit Sexual Content | Unprotected Sex (stay safe losers) | Oral (m/f receiving) | Dom/Sub Themes | Dirty Talk | Praise Kink | Sir Kink | He Spit in Ur Mouth | Brief Sex with Jimin | Should I Even Bother Putting Cursing?
Summary -> You meet an old friend under uncomfortable circumstances, he brings with him memories you’ve tried to forget for years. Your past becomes your future before you can catch your breath. 
Excerpt -> “But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.”
—————
“We have a 10-51 at The Red Eye on Main.” Your radio suddenly booms in your otherwise quiet vehicle, snapping you out of your trance-like state caused by watching a mostly empty intersection run through light cycles for the better part of an hour.
“10-4, I’m 76.” You answered, pausing briefly to assess your location in relation to the hole-in-the-wall bar. “10-77, three minutes.” You finish, setting down your mic and flipping your lights on.
When you first started this job, getting a call for a drunk and disorderly would send your heart into overdrive, cause your breathing to shallow and your hands to shake. Mind filling with possibilities of having to contain a violent man twice your size. But after learning the patterns of the locals in town, and learning your own capabilities, you barely batted an eye. You’d probably just have to give the crotchety town drunk a ride back home and scold him for making you do this for the upteenth time. No biggie.
You sped down the empty street with ease, you could drive this town with your eyes closed since you were fourteen. The street lights around you against the night sky making everything appear untouched and serene, only amplifying your obnoxious siren.
Three minutes, nearly on the dot, when you pull up to Red Eye, and much to your surprise you see a young man sitting on the curb with his forearms resting lazily on his knees waiting for your arrival. The less than impressed security guard stops glaring at him in favor of filling you in on what happened.
“Hi y/n.” the guard greets, making the man pick his head up to confirm his suspicions.
“Well, fancy seeing you on that side of the law.” He says making you take in a stiff breath at the familiar voice, one you haven’t heard in years.
“I could say the same to you, Mr. Jeon.” you say with a steady breath, being very well versed in not appearing as shaken as you are. And you are. But you fight the way your throat wants to close because you’re wearing your badge, and you’re not here to dive nose first into your past. You’re here to take statements and do an assload of paperwork.
“The kid has been pretty cooperative,” the guard continues when you turn your attention back towards him. “didn’t put up a fight when I escorted him out. He’s had one too many drinks and threw a punch at a guy, who has decided not to press charges. But I got his information before he left to tend to his busted lip, if you need to contact him.” he informs, handing you a napkin with the bar’s logo and shaky ink etched into it.
“Thank you, I’ll take him off your hands.” you say glancing at the man in question, he’s still watching you with the kind of smirk only alcohol can provide. “I’ll take him to the station to sober up and get his story.” he nods, stepping back but staying close just in case.
“Are you gonna get in the car quietly or do I have to use these?” you question, holding your cuffs up with a hooked finger.
“Don’t make me any promises you won’t keep, sweetheart.” he winks lamely. You roll your eyes, and open the back door of your car.
“Get in Jeon, I won’t ask twice.”
“Yes, ma’am.” he says, raising his hands in defense and standing to climb in your backseat.
You shut the door behind him and make your way around the vehicle, giving the guard a wave goodbye. If he had been anyone else making a remark like that would’ve landed them a pair of cuffs, but in all your years of knowing him, Jungkook has never given you a reason to feel unsafe with him.
He was pretty quiet on your drive back to the station allowing your mind to wander to the time you two last spoke.
That day the air was heavy and unforgiving on your lungs, that no matter how hard you tried never felt full. You were both dressed in black, heads hung low in mourning. Before you departed you gave each other a long hug, whispering ‘I’m sorry’s and sniffling together. Giving each other as much comfort as you could muster even though neither one of you believed it would be okay yourselves. The hug was meant to be one of condolence but shortly after you would come to learn that, unbeknownst to either of you, it was a goodbye as well.
You don’t know if it was because you were pulling up to the station or if it was because he could sense your thoughts but he decided to break the silence.
“The asshole had it coming.” He spoke bluntly, as you opened his door and walked him inside.
“What did he do that warranted a busted lip?” you asked, slightly exasperated but mostly curious.
“He was making a girl at the bar uncomfortable, she asked him to stop and he didn’t. I stepped in, he swung, I dodged, I clocked him in the mouth, and he fell down.” He recounted simply, almost bored. He hasn’t changed, still ready to throw a punch for anyone in need. Just like-
Your stern look softens. “Why didn’t you tell security he threw the first punch?”
“Would he have believed me? I’m sure I haven’t been gone long enough for half the town to forget my reputation.” He says sitting in the chair next to your desk and crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. Those are new. Well, most of them.
“I suppose not, but at least I could have it on record that you tried.”
“I told you, didn’t I?” he raises his brows.
“Yes, you did.” you relent, grabbing a breathalyzer from your drawer. “Blow.”
He takes the device from you and does as instructed, presumably choosing to keep some sexual comment to himself.
“A .05?” You blink. “I thought he said you drank too much.”
“Probably assumed since I decked a guy in a bar.” He shrugs.
“I suppose, but how annoying.” you say slightly bothered by the fact that he had to tell you everything, and security didn’t even bother to ask people who started it. He chuckles at you.
You start typing away on your report, his story, his blood alcohol level, etc.
“Do you wanna press charges? He did try to assault you.” you question, pausing your fingers.
“No, but I think that woman should.” you smile.
“Okay, I have all the info I need. You have two options.” you turn to him. “I can drive you home now, or I could get you some coffee and you wait here until you blow a .02 then I’ll take you back to your car.”
“I take option B.” he says, tapping the corner of your desk as if to lock in his answer. “I don’t want to have to go get it tomorrow.”
“I’ll go get your coffee.” you go to get the two of you some much needed liquid energy. Normally, you wouldn’t just leave someone who was brought in for assault without cuffing them to your desk or asking someone to watch them, but you know him, and normally people wouldn’t voluntarily choose to hang out in a police station for any longer than they needed to. Tonight is full of many things outside the norm.
As you sit back down back down with your drinks, Taehyung returns from patrol duty, and beelines for Seokjin’s desk.
“Tag you’re it.” he says, patting Jin’s back, making him flinch.
“Officer Kim, don’t sneak up on me.” He says puffing out his chest.
“My apologies, Officer Kim.” they laugh. 
You miss the way Tae looks over at you, and his smile drops when he sees who is at your desk.
You and Jungkook sip your coffee with a comfortable silence, neither of you wanting or needing to address his long absence yet, not while you’re filling out a report with his name on it.
A couple hours pass like this, with you doing various paperwork, and him scrolling on his phone or staring into space. Yep, definitely hasn’t changed.
“Alright Jeon, once more.” you say handing him the breathalyzer again.
He does.
.01, good.
“Let’s get you to your car.” you stand, and walk out into the crisp dawn air.
The ride back doesn’t leave your mind swimming as much as the first time. There’s still a sizable elephant in the room, but the tension isn’t as unbearable as you’d imagined it would be.
You pull your car next to his, allowing him to return home. “Thank you.” He half smiles, unsure if he should say ‘see ya later’ or not, but you had a feeling you would soon.   — You awoke later that same day, when the peachy light of the sunset was flowing through your windows. Your shift at the station usually ran from midnight to ten in the morning, meaning you usually slept through most of the day. Though you didn’t mind, you’ve always been a night owl, nothing a little vitamin D supplements can’t fix.
Groaning as you roll over in your mess of blankets to check your phone, you find exactly what you were expecting.
Jimin (7:48pm): In need of stress relief, Doll? ;)
You (8:13pm): God, yes. When you couldn’t meet up last week I thought I was gonna implode :(
Jimin (8:15pm): Aw, you missed me? Cute
You (8:16pm): Don’t flatter yourself Park. I missed your dick
Jimin (8:17pm): I’m hurt :(
You (8:19pm): I’ll be over in 40. Be ready, handsome ;)
Jimin (8:19pm): :)
You toss your phone on your bed and get up to take a shower, a little hop in your step at the prospect of receiving an orgasm by someone else’s hand. And Jimin always delivered.
You wash your hair quickly, more concerned about shaving your legs for the first time in two weeks. After you’ve dried off, you lotion and perfume like normal. You slip on a tank top and leggings, knowing that he is a big fan of your ass. You take your uniform with you as well so you can head straight to work after your weekly dick transaction.
When you’re making your short drive to Jimin’s you find your mind wandering to Jungkook. How your heart skipped a beat when you saw him sitting on that curb. How he’s lost all the baby fat he used to hold in his cheeks, but his eyes still crinkle when he smiles. How having him stand in front of you for the first time in five years confirmed your adolescence wasn’t in fact a pipe dream your mind had fabricated after you decided to change everything you could. How though he’s jaded and may not know it himself, he’s the same boy you’ve always known. And how he still reminded you of-
But now wasn’t time to dwell, you’ve done enough of that. Tonight is supposed to be about the exact opposite. Free of stress. Free of thoughts. Only a couple hours of animalistic need. Then you could go back to reality.
“Hello y/n.” Jimin greets with a smile after your knuckles rap against his door. “Do you wanna talk? Before we…”
“Not really.” you answer a little too fast, crossing the threshold of his apartment.
“Works for me.” he says, noticing that you’re seeking more of the benefits than the friends side of this deal.
Without another word his hands are on your hips and his lips are on your neck, walking you backwards until your back is flush with the door. Noticing that you’re not in the mood for as much foreplay as normal, he immediately grazes his teeth against that spot on your neck that makes you sigh into his ear.
He’s always been very good at reading you, perhaps that’s why you agreed to this little arrangement. You’re not sure exactly how the two of you ended up fucking in the first place. Definitely had something to do with your collective blood alcohol level at the time. But when all was said and done that first time he told you he’d be more than willing to make it a regular thing. To make your shoulders relax every so often and it’s not as if he didn’t get anything out of it. Neither of you were in the headspace for a relationship, so the easy access to orgasms, with no strings attached was ideal for all parties involved.
Not that you weren’t friends outside his bedroom as well. You guys would hangout pretty often just as friends. You were fortunate that the line between your regular dose of stress relief and the platonic love you had for one another never blurred. Jimin was special in that regard.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt and he takes the hint quickly pulling it over his head. You do the same, and his hands eagerly cup your breasts. He reattaches his lips to the sweet spot on your neck biting down harder this time causing a small whine to fall from your lips. He smirks against your skin and runs his tongue along your reddened skin to sooth it.
Not wanting to waste anymore time than necessary you grab his hand and walk him to his bedroom. Once inside you put your hands on his chest and give him a firm push until his knees meet the edge of his mattress and he falls against it with a small bounce. When he falls back you remove your leggings and underwear, he does the same matching your urgency.
You climb over him planting your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your increasingly wet slit up his stiff length.
“You got hard pretty fast.” you say breath tickling his cheek and he slides his palms up your thighs to your ass, gently kneading the flesh in his hands.
“You said be ready.” he says smoothly, pushing his hips up to add to the friction on your clit. The extra contact catching you off guard making you place your hands on his shoulders for extra balance.
You feel his breath hitch beneath you when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to guide him to your entrance. You sit down a little slower than you want to due you being a little less wet than usual.
It was your doing, he would’ve been glad to work you up properly, but you were seeking a quick release. Caught somewhere between wanting to take your time so your escape will last longer and needing to reach the cloudy peak as quickly as possible, putting as much distance as you can between you and the thoughts that lay in the valley of your metaphorical mountain. Though it seems your body was choosing the latter for you.
You rock your hips against his, enjoying the way his cock drags against your g-spot, sending heat from your core to your toes. You pick up your pace a little allowing yourself to let go as much as you can, jaw going slack and eyes closing tightly. Jimin groans at the sight, reaching up to toy with your pert nipples.
A light layer of sweat forms over both of your bodies, heating the room like a makeshift furnace. A furnace made of hot skin and moans instead of fire.
You increase the speed of your hips on his until your thighs start to burn, the dull ache in your limbs only adding to the fiery one in your pelvis. Your pants grow louder as your end is nearly in sight.
“Jimin,” you gasp with a mouth like cotton. “I need more.”
Your request straight to the point, he moves his hands to your hips, rubbing your clit one thumb and using his other hand to keep you in place while he thrusts up to meet yours roughly.
“Umph- fuck!” your voice cracks as you fall onto his chest, curling your fingers into his hair and pulling to keep you grounded as your orgasm rips through you.
Jimin groans deeply in your ear, you can tell how your fists in his hair and your walls clenching around him brought him to his end by how desperate his thrusts became. You can feel his cock pulsing as he coats your core with his cum.
You both lay like that for a few moments, his softening dick still tucked safely within you and labored breaths creating a fog around your heads.
“Can I use your shower? I don’t wanna go to work smelling of sex.” you ask and he chuckles against your shoulder.
“By all means.”
“Thank you.” you say, for both the shower and the sex.
He grabs your hand when you go to stand from the damp fabric of his bed. “Are you alright?” he decides to pry for the first time tonight. “You haven’t been that down to business since that fight with your mom a few months ago.” he says, concern laced in his features.
“Yeah.” you begin unsure. “Just, something happened last night that brought up some memories.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he treads lightly, knowing what that statement could mean.
“I’ll be okay. You let me turn off my brain for a minute.” you smile and kiss his cheek.
“Happy to help. I’m here if you need anything.” he says with a stupid wink. Though you know he doesn’t just mean sex. Jimin has been a shoulder for you to cry on as long as you’ve known each other. You’ve always been there for him as well. A mutual understanding that you can come to each other for anything.
“I know, thank you Minie.” — You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair, cursing the clock above the captain’s doorway that ticks just too loud for you to think. You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus on the text on your computer screen. You’re relieved when the phone on your desk starts to ring.
“Hello this is Officer l/n.” you say putting the phone to your ear, unfortunately excited about someone being in distress, but you’re about five minutes of screen time away from getting a migraine.
“Hello Miss l/n, this is Mrs. Choi,” here we go again. “I was wondering if you could send an officer to the house across the street? I think I saw some hoodlums trespassing.” and there it is.
“Of course Mrs. Choi,” you hold back a lengthy exhale. “I’ll go check it out, myself. Did you happen to see anything that could provide a description?”
“I’m afraid not dear, I only saw some trees rustling.” ah yes, the wind. Nature’s trespasser.
“Okay, I’ll take a look. Anything to help you sleep better at night, ma’am.” you smile as sweetly as you can despite her not being able to see you.
“Thank you Miss l/n.” she says promptly ending the call.
You let your breath out fully for the first time since the interaction began. And try your best to ignore how tense it makes you when she always calls you ‘Miss’ but calls all your male coworkers ‘Officer.’ You once put Jin in a choke-hold over a granola bar, you’re more than capable of holding your own, but that’s neither here nor there. Really.
“Mrs. Choi again?” Tae asks peering around the filing cabinet between your desks.
“The one and only.” you state. “She ordered the usual; someone to check the old abandoned house across from hers.”
“Well maybe if someone didn’t break into that place all the time in high school.” he says looking anywhere but at you.
“And now I’m the one who has to get rid of them. The world goes round, balance is restored. Hooray.“ you say feigning awe, he chuckles.
“Hey, I know how you are about that old place, do you want me to check it out for you?” Tae asks his expression morphing into worry.
“I got it, I’m okay. I need to stretch my legs anyway. But thank you Tae, really.” for the first few months you were a cop, you couldn’t even take the patrol route the old house was on without crying. He was always really nice about taking care of it for you. Officer Kim, always ready to jump in at a sign of distress, perhaps why he’s so good at his job.
“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind.” you hum an affirmative as you exit the building.
Though the bubble of anxiety in your stomach grows as you approach the run down house, it doesn’t spill out as tears anymore. You’ve come to accept this is as healed as your wounds will get.
You unlock the chain on the gate and make your way to the front door, knocking harshly before opening it.
“Police! Come out now and I won’t tell your moms what you’ve been doing!” you shout into the empty house. You’re sure the house is empty because every time there has been a few teens in here you can hear them run before you can even shout ‘police!’ but, you still need to do a walk through just in case.
Your cautious steps make the floorboards creak below you, the smell alone flooding your mind with memories.
There’s a sliding glass door in the back, that’s long since been shattered, where you used to sit and get a perfect view of the stars for hours with your first, and thus far only, love. 
Your mind wanders to when you used to play music off your phones and slow dance in the living room, skillfully avoiding the gaps in the old wood floor. It’s truly a wonder this place hasn’t been torn down yet, but you’re thankful, you don’t know if you could bear to see it go.
As you make your way down the dark hallway you get a small craving for a cigarette, having quit years ago now, but you can almost feel the dry paper on your lips as you make your way to the last bedroom in the house. You pause at the door.
Your eyes scan until they reach the corner of the room, pausing at the small carving in the wall. Your breath catches for the briefest of seconds when step close to it, tracing the heart with your fingers, careful to not get any splinters. Your fingers continue their journey, tracing the initials at its center with care.
Y/I + YG
“Babe! Angel! C’mere!” Yoongi’s smile beamed, gums and all.
“What?! What did you need to interrupt my sandwich eating to show me?” you follow his voice slightly annoyed, though you wondered why he disappeared for a few minutes, leaving you to munch in solitude. You had met here for a picnic, not uncommon for the two of you during the summer. He brought a blanket and you brought the burgers. You set up the picnic in the living room, with summer sun’s rays spilling through the old cracked windows, it’s a lot more beautiful than sitting in the middle of an abandoned house sounds.
“Look!” he says gesturing to the freshly carved wood on the wall, tucking his trusty knife back in his pocket.
“God, you’re so lame.” you smile and walk over to him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to admire his handy work.
“If I’m lame it’s your fault.” me chuckles running his hand through your hair. “I suppose, loving you makes me this way.” he hums jokingly.
“I never said it was a bad thing.” you look up at him, admiring the way the sun makes his bleached hair glow.
“You know I do right?” his tone drops a bit and his eyes search yours. “I love you.”
“Of course I know.” he only tells you everyday, yet you never tire of hearing it. You study his face, the slope of his nose and the little mole right next to it. His pink petal lips, that despite his reputation, you don’t know how anyone could be weary of a man with such beautifully delicate features. And his dark eyes that lighten only when he looks at you.
His gums return. He tilts your chin up to gently connect your lips. He tastes of the chocolate milkshake he drank not long ago, and you hum against his mouth.
“I love you too.”
The memory shifts, to one five months later.
“I love you too, angel.” his chilled lips peck yours, as he starts to climb out your bedroom window. The winter air makes you shiver when a gust of wind blows against your skin, with only your pajamas to keep you warm. Sometimes you’d sneak him overnight but with the first day back to school being tomorrow, it was too risky. If your mom caught him here again she’d have some choice words for the two of you, but she is a heavy sleeper, so as long as he left at a decent hour, nothing to worry about.
He hops down, his boots packing the snow beneath them when he lands. His head now a bit below yours as you lean out your first story window.
“Text me when you get home!” you remind him as he starts the small trek back to his car.
“Always!” he whisper-shouts back before disappearing around the side of your house.
You gaze up at the moon and take in a deep breath, trying to decide if the frozen air is refreshing or sharp on your lungs. You don’t take the time to figure it out before your window is shut and the air in your room feels hot against your cheeks.
You curl up in bed, and decide to scroll your various socials until your eyes get heavy.
You blink to help your eyes focus on the text on your screen, and decide to call it a night. You flick your eyes over to check the time.
2:30 am? Yoongi left at 2:00 and still no text? He’s always really good about telling you he got home, though he has forgotten a few times, no one is perfect.
“I’ll wait til he texts, he probably stopped for gas.” you mumble to no one.
2:45 am. You decide to text him.
You (2:46am): Love, did you make it home alright?
You (3:15am): I’m sure you just fell asleep.
You hit send trying to convince the panic knotting your stomach.
“He’s forgotten before, why am I freaking out so much?” you mumble to yourself rubbing your eyes. “I’ll just call him.”
My Love missed your call (3:23am)
My Love missed your call (3:35am)
My Love missed your call (3:42am)
“It’s Yoongi, leave your message after the beep.”
“Hi, I know that you’re probably just sleeping, and you’re gonna tell me that you’re fine in the morning.” you push out a laugh trying not to cry. “But I just can’t shake this feeling, so please please call me as soon as you wake up. I love you.”
My Love missed your call (4:01am)
You sit there staring at your phone in your hands, for a few minutes watching the clock on your screen change. Still nothing.
“Alright, fuck it.” you huff and grab your boots, shoving your feet in them and throwing on your jacket. You grab your keys and get in your car, you dial his number again while you start the engine, the route to his house flashing through your mind.
The dial tone in your ear stops ringing. “Thank fuck Yoongi!” the tears you’ve been holding back start to spill in relief. “You scared the-”
“This is Officer Jung.” a deep voice rings in your ear and your blood runs cold.
“What’s going on? What happened?” you ask frantic, the panic in your lungs turning into fire, the air feeling too thick to swallow.
“Ma’am, Min Yoongi was involved in an incident.” he says attempting to make his voice resemble something close to comfort. “The snow caught his tire and hi-”
“Is he okay?” you try to yell but your throat is closing.
“His car was pulled into a ditch, he-.”
“Is he fucking okay?!” your voice cracks and so does the dam holding back your tears.
“He didn’t make it.”
Your heart skips in a way you didn’t know it could, your body instantly too weak to hold itself or anything else. Your phone falls to the floor and your body falls against your steering wheel. You think you’re screaming but who can be sure with the ringing in your ears echoing in your skull. Your vision is blurred and your cheeks are wet. You were shivering when you climbed in your car but your skin has gone numb.
You don’t know how long you were crying in your car but by the time you were able to collect yourself enough to walk back to your bed your phone had no charge, and the sun had begun to rise.
When you finally turned your phone back on, you were flooded with people asking if you were okay, most of them you didn’t even know. After scrolling through your list of unopened texts, you answered only the one from his little brother.
Gukkie (7:38am): You okay?
You (8:44am): No
Gukkie (8:45am): Yeah, me either.
Now the ache is dull and the memories are faded. The anger and hurt that used to filter them turns more rosy as time goes on. And as with most wounds, there are scars. Love runs deep and Min Yoongi was your deepest river and your deepest cut.
You finish tracing the divots in the wood and smile bittersweetly. You place a kiss on the tips of your first and second fingers, you touch them to his initials and take a deep breath.
You let that breath go slowly as you walk out of the house, careful not to step on any of the less stable floor panels. Your lungs finally empty when you reach the gate where you can not-so-metaphorically lock up your past. — “Did you really need to cuff me?” you hear a familiar voice huff from behind you.
“Yes I did.” Tae grunts, you turn to see him holding Jungkook by the elbow before he  plops him down in the seat next to his desk.
“Alright, you’re the boss.” he says somewhere between sarcasm and defeat. He attempts to shift into a comfortable position, his cuffs against the metal chair hitting your ears in a less than pleasant way.
Jungkook glances your way and gives you a small nod when you catch eyes, and you do your best to pretend you meant to be staring at him. Though you’re sure he’s probably just as tense as you are. Police stations aren’t exactly the best place for a reunion. Especially twice.
“Name.” Taehyung states in a business-like tone.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“Date of birth.” September first, 1997.
“September first, 1997.”
“Address.” 5235 west- shit I’m eavesdropping.
You shift in your seat and refocus on what you were doing before they came in. You try to at least.
Seokjin returns from his patrol route, entering the room the same as he always does, as loud as possible. “Tag you’re it!” he says with a childlike smile as he pats Tae on the shoulder.
“I’m kinda busy.” he gestures to Jungkook and his computer screen.
“I can take care of the report for you.” you butt in before you can think about the fact that you’re speaking. Tae slides his chair to your desk to get out of the other’s ear shot. “Do you really wanna deal with him? I know you’re not a big fan.” you lower your voice.
“Yeah, you have a point.” He thinks for a second, looking over at the man in question and grimacing slightly. “You sure?”
“Of course, I took care of him last week.” you say matter of factly. “And years before that.” you add after a beat. He nods in agreement, and grabs his jacket. “Change in plans Guk,” he smiles at the nickname he hasn’t heard from you in a long time. “You’re with me, Officer Kim has other business he needs to attend to.”
“Oh does he?” Jungkook mutters under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. He gets up from Tae’s desk and shuffles over to yours, his shoulders releasing slightly.
Without saying anything you unlock his wrists and set the cuffs on your desk, he rubs his skin a little too dramatically and you smile when he sits back in the chair looking more relaxed.
“Thank you.” Jungkook smiles. You miss the way Tae scowls at your gesture as he walks out of the building.
You start filing out the basics without question, as you know all the answers. He sits there tracing the walls with his eyes, far less entertaining than last week having already memorized the lack luster wallpaper.
“Alright Guk, what happened this time?” you say after a couple minutes.
“I didn’t fucking do anything.” he says widening his eyes clearly frustrated but not at you.
“It appears you did.” you say accusing him playfully.
“Seriously.” he relaxes a little. “I went to Red Eye again, I was minding my own business.” he points his finger at you in preemptive defense. “The same guy from last week-”
“The one whose face you busted?” you quip.
He stops, mouth slightly agape. “Yes, that one.”
“Continue.” you smirk and he glares at you slightly.
“I was sitting at the bar, he came up and started saying he could kick my ass for what I did. I told him to forget about it cause I wasn’t gonna fight him. He said I may look tough now but I’m still the same sixteen year old I was before everything. I got in his face, no fists mind you, and told him to fuck off. The security saw us yelling and told us we needed to leave, and I refused because I had done nothing wrong. He told me he would call the cops and the other guy left, but I sat my ass back down, cause The Man has never stopped me before. And bingo bango, Officer Pretty Boy cuffs me and I’m here.”
“You just can’t get rid of that rep of yours, can you?” you soften.
“I’m used to it, and it’s nothing I didn’t do to myself.” he shrugs. “Besides, I’d rather be feared than pitied.” his voice lowers, and your heart twinges.
“I don’t fear or pity you.” he smiles, not one of those smiles that’s big and all teeth, but one that’s small and warm. Jungkook had this way of saying everything he needed without speaking a word.
Silence falls over you while you finish writing the report. He didn’t do anything other than disturb the peace for a moment, no need for punishment harsher than a slap on the wrist.
“Ow!” he rubs his arm. “What the fuck was that for?” he questions, his brows furrow.
“It was a slap on the wrist.” you shrug. “You didn’t do anything that requires a fine or jail time, so you get a warning.”
“Aren’t you taking that a tad too literal?” he chuckles.
“I don’t think so.” you fight a smile. “I don’t wanna see you with flashing lights near you again unless you catch fire. Am I understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” he playfully salutes, but he knows you’re serious.
“Would you like a ride back to your car?”
“I can walk, that’s not necessary.” he says standing up and waving you off.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, the air will do me good.” his feet stutter. “Would you maybe want to get coffee on Wednesday? I didn’t imagine our reunion going quite like this.” he lets out a breathy laugh.
“I’d love that.” your eagerness to accept surprises you, and given the way he lights up, you surprise him too. — You mindlessly push the noodles you’ve been eating around on your plate letting the sound of other tables’ utensils clinking and your mother ramble on about her book club’s latest ventures buzz lowly in your head as you hum vague responses.
“… Jeon Jungkook moved back to town.” the mention of the name snaps you back into reality.
“What about Jungkook?” you ask, now at full attention.
“Have you heard he moved back to town?” she looks at you expectantly.
“I- um. I thought I saw him in the grocery store the other day, but I assumed I was seeing things.” you say keeping your voice as steady as possible.
“His mother is absolutely over the moon about it.” she says, wholly missing your lie as she was too excited at the prospect of telling you the latest gossip. Small town doesn’t leave one with much else to do.
“I’m sure she is.” you say and your chest can’t help but warm at the thought of Mrs. Jeon being so excited to see her son after he’s been gone for three years.
“She’s so happy he finally gave up on that god awful garage band.” she says, relief filling her face, and you roll your eyes. You had nearly forgotten he went to the city to make it big, you hadn’t ever doubted them, his voice alone was label worthy. “What were they called again? Red appendix?”
You blink. “Crimson Heart?” you offer her, knowing full well you’re correct.
“Ah right! That’s the one.” she says laughing at the, admittedly edgy, name. “I’m so glad he’s cleaning up his act, I expected better of him.” she adds, shaking her head. Your shoulders tense at her statement.
“Did you hear Jeon Jungkook got busted for spray painting the movie theater?” your mom questions as she leans on your door frame. Your face buried in some book you didn’t know the name of, as long as it had words in it. Mind numbing words.
“Um, no mom. I didn’t.” you mumble clearly uncomfortable with the subject. It was summer now, about six months since that night. The cold unforgiving weather that changed your world in an instant long since melted away, and as free as summer used to make you feel, it just feels hot and bitter against your skin.
“It just makes me sad, I expected better for him.” her voice solemn, clearly not ready to let the topic go.
You couldn’t muster a response that wasn’t yelling or trying to reason with her, which would get you nowhere.
“I never understood why you couldn’t have chosen the good brother.”
Your fingers clench around your book wrinkling the pages. She’d said that for years but sting you felt this time was far deeper.
“He was so studious and stayed out of trouble, but it looks like I was wrong.” she says, appearing more upset that her judgment was off, rather than the obvious issue at hand.
“Can we please not talk about them.” you plead softly, fighting your closing throat and watering eyes.
“Honey, I know you miss him, but look how much better you’re doing now! You’re reading for pleasure.” I’m reading so I can’t think. “You raised your GPA up almost a whole point before the year ended.” My test scores are the same, I just did my homework. “And I haven’t found cigarettes under your bed in months!” She seems most excited about that one. I’ll give her the smoking, they don’t fill my lungs the same way they used to. How can they when I can’t catch my breath?
Her attempt at comfort doing nothing but reminding you that you can’t be who you want to be anymore. You’d become someone who does any trivial task they can as not to spend too much time alone with their thoughts. Instead of someone who didn’t give a shit, did what they wanted to do, and most importantly had their love by their side. “Yeah, I guess not smoking anymore is good.”
“You know I always rooted for you two.” your mom says, her smile mischievous.
“I know, you always told me he was the ‘good brother’.” you try to conceal your eye roll at the same conversation you’ve had with her a million times.
“Before you and Yoongi got together, too.” she adds.
“What?” now this surprised you.
“His mom and I used to talk about how cute you’d be when you were all in elementary.” she remembers fondly.
You try to respond but you’re too shocked that her infatuation with Jungkook went past him being ‘so close yet so far.’
“Anywho, I just hope he can find the boy he used to be.” she hums.
You agree, but for largely different reasons. Your chest blooms at the thought of a smiling Jungkook.
“So do I, mom.” — Jimin (6:37pm): Hey Doll, in need of extra McLovin after lunch with The Wicked Witch of the West?
You (6:45pm): Actually, I feel okay Minie, but thank you
You (6:46pm): I’m doing better
Jimin (6:53pm): I’m proud of you, beautiful
You (7:04pm): Me too — When you walk into the coffee shop a few minutes before you were supposed to meet you’re surprised to see Jungkook already sitting at a small table by the wall of large windows with two cups of coffee placed in front of him.
“Hey Guk.” you sit down, shoulders relaxing.
“I got your old order, I hope that’s okay.” he smiles nervously.
“How the hell did you remember that?” you gasp, taking a long sip from your cup.
“You’ve had a caffeine addiction since you were like fourteen, and you practically lived at my house.” he chuckled.
“I suppose you’re right.” you nod in agreement and take another sip, the drink making your taste buds dance.
“Listen,” Jungkook begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to apologize for the whole you arresting me twice thing.” he hesitates.
“Technically, I didn’t arrest you the second time.” you correct with a smile, trying to ease his obvious guilt.
“Still.” his voice insistent, almost stern. “That isn’t exactly how I wanted us to meet again after five years. It didn’t feel right to not fix it.” his face seeking the approval that his apology did, in fact, fix it.
“There was nothing to fix really, Guk. But thank you.” you soften. “I don’t think of you any different. How could I, given my past?” he chuckles at that. “And you got the shit end of the stick in both situations. I still know you’d never do anything truly bad, you’re all bark and no bite.”
“Oh, you don’t think I can bite?” he tongues the inside of his cheek smugly.
“Would you shut up?” his face shifts immediately, his eyes crinkling. “I’m serious.” you groan, but the heat threatening your cheeks and ears contradicts you. Well, that’s odd. Anyway.
“Okay.” he says after a beat. “C’mon y/n, I know you’re dying to know why I came back. Just ask.” he states, less than smoothly steering the conversation.
“Why would I wonder about you inexplicably reappearing after three years of nearly zero contact with anyone? It hasn’t crossed my mind at all.” your mouth laced with sarcasm.
“You think you’re so funny.” he squints. “I am.” you wave him off. “Alright, spill Rockstar, since you want to so bad. Why’d you give up living it up in the city to come back to all this?”
“Actually.” he laughs. “They kicked me out of the band like two years ago.”
You blink. “What? Why would they kick out their only talent?” you say screwing your brow in offense.
He nearly chokes on his coffee. He sputters trying to catch his breath, wiping his mouth on this arm. “Thank you.” he clears his throat. “But they were definitely better off without me.”
“How do you figure?”
“I wasn’t in the best place when the guys and I moved over there, for obvious reasons.” you nod. “I was getting black out drunk every other night. And writing songs that were just, not good. The kind of sad that isn’t relatable anymore, it was just painful and would make the crowds go silent.”
You grab his hand wishing you could’ve been there when he really needed it, but now will have to do. He smiles.
“The last straw though, was one night I got absurdly drunk right before a gig, and I thought I could handle it because I had been tipsy on stage before. They told me not to but I didn’t listen, and when I got to the song that I wrote about Yoongi, I just broke down sobbing on stage. I was embarrassed so I just fucked off out of the venue and kept running until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore.”
“Guk, I’m so sorry.” you squeeze his hand, and he rubs his inked thumb over you knuckles to tell you not to worry.
“No it’s okay, the guys found me the next morning, passed out in a Denny’s.” he chuckles stiffly. “They brought me home and told me that I needed to get help, they didn’t want to watch me self-destruct anymore, and at the time I was hurt but I’m grateful. It still took me a fucking while to work up the courage to come home, but if I didn’t have anyone tell me to try, I don’t think I’d be home now.” his expression turned from bitter to sweet as he recounted his story.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” he smiles, the stars in his eyes multiplying when he looks at you. “My dumbass fifteen year old self thought if I went dark side I could fill the hole he left, but I didn’t know what dark side really looked like until it was too late. Then it just became something I told myself so I didn’t have to face the fact that I was doing shitty shit.”
“You sound like you’ve taken a lot of time to reflect.” you say impressed.
“Limiting your alcohol intake to a normal human level will do that to you.” he chuckles.
“My dumbass sixteen year old self wasn’t much better, arguably worse.” you counter. “I thought if I got rid of everything in my life that reminded me of him, I could force myself to forget.” your face falls slightly. “Which is worse? Diving in head first or turning your back entirely?” you push out a sound that’s supposed to be laugh.
“I think both are pretty fucking miserable.” you both laugh, he gives you reassuring look. “But, tragic backstory aside. I wanted to come home to face the music and make amends with my mom.”
“My mom told me she’s very happy you’re home.” you can’t help but feel her relief.
“Yeah, I really put her through hell.” his guilt present in his expression.
“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” he relaxes, his gaze fixed on yours for a moment. There’s those stars again.
He blinks, snapping his attention to his coffee. “I’m gonna get a refill” he says, disconnecting your hands, that you had forgotten you were holding, to tap his empty cup on the table. “Do you want another?”
“Yes please.” you say turning to rummage in your bag for a few dollars to give him, but when you turn around he’s already in line. You deflate setting the cash in front of you.
Your eyes wander around the cafe, inspecting the comforting eclectic vibe it produced. Your gaze stops on Jungkook standing in line, studying how his features have changed, how he has grown a few inches, his shoulders have broadened and how you can see the way his bicep flexes ever so slightly when he takes the coffee from the barista. What the fuck? Did I just check him out?
You inhale sharply, turning your focus on anything happening on the street outside the window.
When he’s seated back in front of you, you slide the small bills in his direction. He promptly slides them back towards you and you glare at him.
“When did you get so hell-bent on being nice?” he smiles.
You scrunch your brows and drop your jaw. “What do you mean? I’ve always been nice?” you question in defense and he laughs.
“You used to make fun of me all the time.” he states, crossing his arms.
“I mean yeah, but like in a sibling banter type way.” you frown. “Did you really think I was trying to bully you?”
“No!” he reassures. “I mean it kinda sucked because…” he trails off and takes a sip of his coffee in an attempt to abandon his sentence.
“Because?” You’re not getting away that easy.
“You know it’s funny.” he breathes. “I used to have a huge crush on you.” he admits nervously.
“And?” you blink.
“And?” he echos. “No reaction? Not even a slight inhale?”
“I knew, Gukkie.” you break as softly as you can.
Now it’s his turn to be surprised. “You did?” his furrows his brows in offense.
“We both did.” you laugh lightly. “Why do you think Yoongi left an obnoxious amount of hickies on my neck?” you can’t help but cringe a little at the memory.
“That asshole!” Jungkook’s jaw drops, and you snort. “I just thought you were normal slutty teenagers.”
“I didn’t say we weren’t.” you add trying to contain your laughter at the attention his outburst brought you.
He throws you an accusatory squint. “You guys suck.” — “You didn’t need to walk me back to work.” you beam at Jungkook as you walk through the doors of the station. “I don’t need protection.”
“I know you don’t.” he defends. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” you laugh.
“What did he do this time?” Taehyung chimes in loudly from his desk.
You turn to face him. “Nothing, we just got coffee and caught up.”
His expression remains bitter and unconvinced. You opt for brushing him off.
“Thank you, Gukkie.” you smile when you turn back to Jungkook.
“No, you.” he says, patting your hair affectionately before he exits.
You stand at your desk, shifting various papers to pick up where you left off when you see Taehyung approaching you out of the corner of your eye.
“What the fuck, y/n?” he asks angrily, and you widen your eyes in confusion.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”
“Listen, I get it.” he ignores you. “You let him off easy a couple times because you have history together or whatever. But now you’re going on a date with him?” he accuses.
“Tae, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he scoffs, and your jaw tenses. “I would never slack on my job. And that most definitely was not a date.” your words sharp, hoping you’ll get him to drop whatever bullshit this is.
“Then why would you let him go both times?” he crosses his arms waiting impatiently for a response.
“I didn’t ‘let him go,’ because we had no reason to keep him. It’s not illegal to defend yourself or to be a bit of a stubborn ass.” you defend, raising your voice. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Sure okay.” Tae says, clearly annoyed averting his gaze from you.
“I trust him, and you should trust me Taehyung. Why are you being like this?” your voice falling slightly. “Because, I care about you, and the kid is bad news. Do you not remember all that shit he pulled at the end of high school before he took off for several years? He can just show up and everything is heart eyes and open arms?” he says trying to convince you but all it does is make your blood boil.
“I appreciate your concern,” you bite. “But you don’t know him.” He shakes his head letting out a stiff laugh. “Figures you wouldn’t be able to read him, you always did know how to pick ‘em.” “What the fuck, is that supposed to mean?” you say all but seeing red, trying but failing not to yell.
He tongues his cheek and turns to walk back to his desk, very much done with the subject, but you were far from it.
“No!” you say following him. “You can’t just say that and then walk away. Explain yourself.” “I don’t know what the fuck is going on out here but it’s going to end right now.” Captain Kim Namjoon says sternly from his office doorway, arms crossed tight on his chest. “Our apologies, Sir.” you say, both of you bowing at him.
“Y/n, you look frazzled, go home and walk it off.” he offers pointing at the door. “Captain, we’ll drop it. I-” “It wasn’t a suggestion, Officer y/l.” he interrupts. “I expect you’ll be better tomorrow.” his voice a little softer now.
“Yes, Sir.” you bow again, and turn on your heals quickly, avoiding Tae entering your line of vision.
You white knuckle your steering wheel your whole drive home, you’re probably speeding but you can’t be bothered to check. What are you gonna do? Get pulled over?
When your car is parked, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You pull up Jungkook’s contact and your finger hovers over the call button for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to press it with him having been so happy when you two parted less than an hour ago. You opt for seeking comfort from someone else.
You (3:32pm): I need you
Jimin (3:35pm): I’m off in an hour <3 — Your chest rises and falls rapidly while you stare at Jimin’s ceiling, waiting for the normal relief that settles after you two have sex.
But even after you’ve caught your breath you still don’t feel it, the sweat covering your body starting to feel less like afterglow and more like guilt. Why won’t my chest unknot? We’ve hate-fucked countless times. What’s different?
You brush it off shaking your head in the hopes you can trick yourself into feeling normal, before you stand up to gather your clothes. You shudder at how sticky your skin feels against itself as you button up your shirt.
You decide some fresh air would do you good, and you open his bedroom window and take a breath and let the flowers outside fill your nose.
“You okay, beautiful?” Jimin’s voice sounds from behind you. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” you say before you can fully register what you’re saying. You turn to him, his towel hanging lowly on his hips and the hand tousling his damp hair stops in its tracks, his eyes widen. “Is the sex not good anymore? I thought you liked it when I bit your ass.” he chuckles through his worry. His joke makes you soften a little. “No, it’s not anything you did.” you say walking over to hold his hands. “Remember how I said I was doing better?” he nods, his worry fades into a smile. “Turns out that’s more true than I thought it was.” you say and as the words leave your mouth, your body finds that relief it was looking for. Feeling like, for the first time in forever you don’t need to escape your own mind for a minute to function. “Is there a guy?” he quirks a mischievous brow. “Are you ready to be monogamous?” he gasps dramatically. You shove his shoulder while he giggles. “No guy, I just…” you think for a moment. “Don’t need to forget anymore.” you breathe, lungs feeling lighter, and he smiles brightly.
He hugs you tightly. “I really am proud of you, y/n.” he says into your hair. You smile against his shoulder. “Me too.”
You break the hug and he frowns slightly. “Guess it’s you and me for a while now bud.” he says looking at his palm.
“Jimin, I just had an emotional epiphany, and it only took you two seconds to be gross again?” “That’s why you love me.” he laughs trying to give you another hug. You laugh, pushing him by the shoulders. “Fuck off, Park.” — The sun hits your skin warming it despite the cool breeze, music playing your ears as your feet keep a steady rhythm against the pavement below you. Your late morning jog becoming more of a nature walk with the changing seasons. The greenery returning and the sweet smell it provides makes your limbs feel a bit lighter. You nearly throw a punch when someone starts jogging next to you. You stumble slightly after you nearly run into a sign. When you pull your ear buds out he’s laughing at you.
“Careful there.” Jungkook laughs, continuing to match your pace. “You scared the fuck out of me.” you huff steadying yourself. “What are you doing?” “Um-” He looks at you and then his feet. “Jogging?”
“Astute observation,” you smile in spite of yourself. “I mean why are you following me, creep?” you laugh. “I was jogging on the other side of the street and when I saw you I thought I’d join.” he shrugs. “I guess that’s allowed.” Neither of you talks for a few minutes, nothing but your shoes fitting the sidewalk and your heavy breaths filling your ears.
Normally with a silence like this your mind would shuffle through the files of your mind, bringing a similar memory to the forefront, good or bad. But you come up blank. You inhale deeply deciding to file this under ‘Something New.’
“Are you getting tired?” He asks. “No?”
“Good.” he smiles and tries to wink before he picks up his pace, pulling ahead of you. “A race? What are you, twelve?” you laugh running faster.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you over me winning!” he calls over his shoulder, and you groan at the considerable distance he’s put between you.
“You’re an asshole!” you pick up your speed fully running ahead of him.
You laugh and chase each other halfway across town, if you could see how you look you would probably be embarrassed, but you can’t be bothered to think about anything but the wind hitting your face and the idiot you’re running with.
He stops in front of a small market, and contrary to how you struggle to catch your breath, your lungs feel fuller than they have in years.
“Do you wanna get ice cream?” he questions, eyeing the banner in the store window.
“Won’t that negate all the exercise we just did?” you breathe, wiping sweat off your forehead. “And?” “You make a strong argument.” you say pushing the door to the corner store open and sighing when the air condition hits you like a refreshing wall. You walk straight to the large freezer to pick out your respective flavors.
You wordlessly decide to walk home in favor of more running, talking about nothing between bites of your cold treats, and you can’t help but think the flowers smell a little sweeter. — You have more work to catch up on than you normally do, you opt for having lunch at your desk so you can work through your break. You have your lunch to your side as your fingers click away on your keyboard.
Something being placed gently on your desk draws your attention away from your screen. You look over too a coffee cup with ‘I’m sorry’ written on it and with a sheepish looking Tae with his hand still wrapped around it. “I’m sorry.” he says looking guilty. “Tae-”
“I acted like a complete ass the other day.” he interrupts before you can even fully think of a response. “Well I won’t argue with that.” you soften and he looks the slightest bit relieved. “I just care about you, and I don’t trust him.” he reiterates his statement from a few days prior.
“This apology was going so well.” you half laugh.
“But!” he adds quickly. “But, I trust you. And if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me.” he says with large eyes, nudging the coffee toward you in the hopes you’ll accept his regret. “Thank you, Tae.” you say taking a sip of the bittersweet drink, appreciating his sincerity. Truth be told, you had already begun to forgive him, he just wants you to be happy. If he expresses his concerns in a less assholistic way next time, you’d be happy to listen. “And I won’t stand in your way if you want to date him.” he smiles. “Like you could, I can kick your ass Kim.” you laugh. “And what is it with you and us dating? I promise you, it’s not like that.”
“Awfully defensive for someone who has no reason to be.” he eyes you with a stupid smirk.
“I just forgave you, don’t push it.” you point a finger and he raises his hands in defense though he doesn’t drop the taunting smirk on his face. He walks backwards to his desk and sits in his chair giving you a nod as one last confirmation that you’ve forgiven him. You continue your work, the air feeling light in the station for the first time since your fight. So focused on your pile of tasks you don’t even notice it’s dark out until the phone rings and makes you look up from your computer.
“Hello, this is Officer y/l.”
“Hello dear, this is Mrs. Choi.” she says sweetly. It’s like clockwork with this fucking lady. “Could you possibly send an officer to this side of town? I saw a young man in a black hoodie hop the fence to the old place.” Well that is far more description than usual.
“Of course, I’ll go make sure everything is okay.” you reassure.
“It’s appreciated as always, Miss y/n.” she says before she hangs up.
“Mrs. Choi?” Tae asks lazily, not even lifting his eyes from his computer.
“Yep.” you say tossing your jacket on.
“Do you want me to check on it?” now he’s looking at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.
“No, I’ll be fine.” you smile. More than fine this time.
Your drive to the old house feels way more like a normal patrol than it ever has, the air feeling like a fog has been cleared. Or perhaps you’re just getting a little too used to Mrs. Choi’s usual request.
You walk down the familiar dirt driveway and your eyebrows furrow when you see a light in the window. Incredible, the old woman who cried wolf is actually right.
“Police!” you shout before you turn the doorknob, your guard not too high as you’re expecting a harmless teenager. Though you’re surprised when you find Jungkook sitting against the wall at the edge of the tattered living room, his legs bent with his forearms resting on them and a bottle of whiskey by his hip. “I’m not here to damage any property.” he says calmly, raising his hands above his head in a lazy surrender. “What are you doing here?” you ask and point your flashlight at the ceiling to better light the space, the light on his phone not doing very much by itself.
“It was something of a quiet place for me. I guess old habits die hard.” he said patting the dusty wall he’s leaning against.
“It was for me too.” you breathe, you look around the room taking in how it’s become even more run down and not quite as beautiful as you remember but breathtaking even without the fantastical dream cloud your memories have become muddled with. “Did he bring you here too?” he looks at you through his messy hair, much more practiced than you at bringing Yoongi up in conversation.
“Yeah he did.” you smile fondly. “We used to have picnics here all the time during the summer.”
“Sounds romantic.” he says, with a comedic scoff.
“Hey, for a sixteen year old? Peak romance.” you retort and he chuckles, letting his head fall against the wall. “He never told me he brought you here too.” you furrow your brows. “Makes sense though, it was his favorite place.” “Yeah, he brought me here a few times when he could ‘remove the stick from my ass.’” he laughs at the memory. “I never understood, there’s about three inches of dust on everything and all the windows are cracked.” he shakes his head. “But after he was gone, it was the most peaceful place I could find. There’s no place as serene as these four shitty walls.” he smiles looking up at you. “It was far less peaceful for me after the accident. The silence coming from this place was deafening for a long time.” you take a seat next to him. “But it’s not so bad anymore.” you hum, eyes scanning the room. You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes letting the sound of the crickets fill your ears, doing your best to not disrupt the stillness around you.
“I want to thank you.” your mouth making the decisions for you once again. “I missed you a lot and spending time with you has been really nice. I’ve been able to face things again that I didn’t think I ever would.” you steady your breath. “So, thank you.”
“I should thank you too.” he begins, and you turn to watch the way his profile moves when he speaks. “I can’t recall a time I smiled when thinking of him. It feels nice to reminisce, not just remember and wish he was still here.”
“God, he wouldn’t recognize either of us.” you say looking down at your uniform and Jungkook’s dirtied jeans.
“He’d kick both our asses.” you laugh.
“You know for a long time,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I was upset because I lost the boy I was in love with.” he shifts a bit. “But somewhere along the way, it became less about being in love and more that someone I cared for so deeply was gone. I don’t know when or where I fell out of love, but it took me a long time to realize that I had.” “I don’t think falling in or out of love can be pinned to a single moment. You just kinda have to take a step back every so often to assess how fucked you currently are.” he laughs, leaning his head on yours. “How vulgar yet profound.” you smile and lace your fingers together. Your mind is running at a dull roar. You had never actually said you weren’t in love with Yoongi out loud before, not even to yourself. You suppose on some level you’ve known for years but saying it made you aware of just how true it was, like you’d been standing on a diving board for ages and finally took the leap that wasn’t so scary after all. You’d still give your left arm to have him there with you now, whether you were still just as in love or maybe just a friend. You still loved him but maybe… I’m not in love anymore. Before you have a chance to explore that thought further you feel Jungkook’s lips on yours, you gasp slightly and move your mouth with his, humming at how soft his lips are.
Despite your realization, when you close your eyes you’re overwhelmed with how familiar this feels. The stale smell of the wood around you and images of Yoongi kissing you right where you’re sitting flashing through your mind. Suddenly your heart is beating in your ears and just as quickly as it began you break the kiss.
“Fuck, y/n I’m so sorry.” he says when his eyes meet yours again. “No don’t be, it’s okay.” you say, trying but failing to keep your voice steady as you stand. He gets up to follow you but his feet seem to be stuck. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t worry about it.” you force a smile. “I should get back to work, I’ll see you Guk.” You say trying to ignore how your throat wants to close. He doesn’t answer, just watches as you close the door behind you, leaving him alone in the empty house. The sense of serenity he found within these walls fades as the light of your flashlight gets further away.
You pull out of the driveway, and remember why you were here in the first place when you see Mrs. Choi’s house across the street. You decide to say fuck it and drive back to the station and hope that she just went to bed. — You (2:30am): Sorry I left. I just need to think
Jungkook (2:37am): No I’m sorry, take your time
You read the same two texts over for what has to be the three hundredth time in the last few days. For a long time you stared at it unsure if you should respond, and then too much time had passed.
Not even texting could be simple with Jungkook.
But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.
Just like the texts you play the kiss in your mind on a loop, your lips tingling at the memory. The old house under your feet and Jungkook’s arms around you crosses too many wires in your brain for anything to make sense.
All you know is… when he kissed your lips you felt like you could breathe again. — You’re sitting on your couch when you hear a frantic knocking at your door. You jump at the sound and check the time. 11:30? What the hell? Your training kicks in and you approach your door and open it slowly.
“Okay listen, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jungkook rambles frantically pushing past you beginning to pace around your living room. “It was fucked up to kiss you, but I just- your eyes looked so beautiful and- shit that’s not the point.” he runs a hand through his hair trying to collect his thoughts. “Guk, it’s okay. You don’t need to-”
“I know what I did was shitty but we haven’t talked in days, and I can’t bear to not have you in my life again.” he’s on the verge of yelling at this point. “This time since I’ve been home with you is the most alive I’ve felt since I was fucking fifteen.”
“I’m not upset with y-”
“I know, I wouldn’t forgive me either, but I needed to try and-”
“Oh for fucks sake.” you mumble as he continues to ramble. You take in a breath. “I wanted you to kiss me!”
“I-” he finally stops, nearly out of breath. “You what?” “I wanted you to kiss me, that’s what scared me.” you clarify now that he’s listening.
He just blinks unsure of what to say. He imagined this going far differently, something more along the mine of you slamming the door in his face, but you didn’t and his heart swells as he takes in your words. “I want it too.” you continue though you’re unsure where you’re going. “I love you, Jungkook, and I can’t get your stupid pretty smile out of my head and-”
“You love me?” the words falling from his mouth softly, and his gaze fixes on your face.
“Yes.” you breathe realizing what you just said. “And it scares the shit out of me.”
“How do you think I feel? I’m in love with my deceased brother’s ex.” he counters, laughing at how ridiculous your situation is, and your heart can’t help but race at his bittersweet words. “But you’re the first time I’ve felt home in forever.” he says, his eyes hiding behind messy bangs.
“Me too.” you admit, and the air in your lungs feels lighter. “I know he would want us to follow our hearts but… like this?” you ask sheepishly, maintaining the distance between you as if neither of you are allowed to cross the invisible threshold.
“I think that even if you guys got the opportunity to break up like two normal ass teenagers…”  he begins, his face full of concern but his eyes filled with the hope that you’ll agree. “He always wanted everyone he cared about to be happy, and fuck y/n, you make me so happy. You always have.” There’s those stars again.
“But I feel guilty.” your eyes threatening to water for the first time in a long time, and your lips tingle at the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours. “Me too.” he takes a step closer to you. “But we don’t have to. We can-” “No, you don’t understand.” you interrupt and he deflates. “I feel guilty because even though we’re talking about him… I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me again.” “Fuck, okay.” he says as if you had just stolen the air from his lungs. He quickly closes the gap between you and reconnects your lips. You put your arms around his neck and attempt to pull him as close as you can, his hands are warm on your jaw and the dream cloud in your mind feels as if it’s been wrapped around the two of you. A blanket of home that you didn’t know had been missing until you had it again.
You run your fingers through his hair and savor how it feels in your hands. He licks into your mouth and his heavy breaths feel hot between kisses. He feels almost frantic as you feel his nails gently dig into the sides of your neck, as though you’d slip out of his grasp if he doesn’t tighten his grip, the dull pressure making you moan into his mouth.
You put your hands on his and he relaxes his fingers. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it lightly and he groans at the sensation, your thighs rub together at how you’re affecting him.
You wordlessly guide him to the couch and nudge him gently until his shoulders are flush with the back of the couch. You straddle him and his thighs flex underneath your ass, you resist the urge to grind down onto him in favor of kissing along his jaw.
His tense shoulders release under your hands as your lips continue their path to his neck. Your teeth graze his skin and his breath catches in your ear, you smirk and bite down harder. His hands quickly grab onto your hips squeezing them in tandem with your mouth, you run your tongue along his reddened skin and your sounds create the most beautiful harmony you’ve ever heard.
Your hips give into temptation and grind down on his hardened dick, the layers between you not doing much in the way of friction but the way his hands tighten around your waist send heat through you melting you from the inside out.
Your hand snakes between you to palm him through his jeans and you move your head up to face him, to see how sweet he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and lips parted from your touch. He reconnects your mouths and the kiss is messy as neither of you can properly think.
You break the kiss and quickly slip to your knees between his thighs. You tuck your fingers into his waistband and pause your movement, eyes searching for his. “Is this okay?” you ask with a slight tug to his pants, he answers by smirking lazily and helping you slide them down his hips.
You pull his boxers down and your mouth waters when you see his dick, the tip a frustrated shade of red. You run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of this length, wrapping your lips around it when you reach the tip. He groans as if he’s relieved to finally have your lips wrapped around him. He grips your hair tightly, fingers flexing against your scalp as he fights the urge to push your head down to his base.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.” he says out of breath, working against his flexing abdomen to keep his voice steady. You hum around him in response making his hips stutter against your mouth, and arousal pools at your core.
You sink your mouth as far down as you can and he moans deeply holding your head in place beginning to thrust into your mouth to test the waters. You grip his thighs to ground yourself and do your best to ignore the way your lungs are beginning to burn. He picks up his pace and you take his cock in your throat until tears prick in your eyes. You tap his thigh and he takes the hint releasing your head so you can breath again.
“You like having your pretty mouth fucked, don’t you?” he questions as he wipes a tear from your eye with his thumb. You nod eagerly and move to take his cock back in your mouth but his grip on your hair stops you. “Patience beautiful,” his eyes darken looking at your swollen lips. “Open.” he says, his voice low. You oblige, flatting your tongue for good measure, he spits in your mouth and his cock twitches at the sight. He lowers your lips back on his dick, the extra wetness making him groan at how messy you look, and you try to keep your throat as relaxed as you can, doing your best to ignore the growing arousal between your legs.
He breaks his assault on your mouth, pulling your head up with a wet pop and you gasp. “Can I taste you too, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly despite how ready he looks to devour you.
“Yes Sir.” you answer and his pupils twitch at the name.
“You’re gonna ruin me.” he laughs stiffly, releasing your hair and you realize how sore your scalp is.
You stand on shaky legs, he sheds his shirt and you follow suit before laying on the couch in front of him. You tuck your fingers in your waistband but he stops you. “Let me.” He says his eyes softening and you relent.
He puts his large palm on your waist and kisses your lips slowly contradicting his previous actions. He leaves hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and down your chest, the wet trail he leaves behind feeling cold when the air hits it. He wraps his mouth around one of your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue and teasing his teeth on the sensitive skin.
Your moan catches in your throat as he bites down and your hand tangles in his hair trying to pull him closer. His free hand runs up your arm removing it from his head and pinning against the cushion gently, you lace your fingers together and you can feel him smile against your chest.
His mouth doing little to relieve the real fire you’re feeling growing deep in your abdomen. You give into the urge to move your hips against his waist and he chuckles deeply taking the hint and continuing his path down your stomach, nipping at your skin when he reaches the hem of your pants.
His breathing picks up again as he slips your pants down your legs and the wet spot on your underwear is exposed to his gaze. He takes his time removing your panties, reveling in the string of your slick that follows. “Such a pretty pussy.” he breathes quietly just to himself.
He tosses them on the floor and eagerly puts your thighs on his shoulders placing gentle pecks anywhere but where you need his mouth. You roll your hips to meet his face and he smirks darkly at your frustration. After properly enjoying your wordless plea he gives you what you want, licking a long flat stripe from your entrance to your clit and you whine at the small bit of relief he’s giving you.
“Did you get this wet just from sucking my cock, sweetheart?” you deflate slightly at his teasing and nod, clenching around nothing at his words. He swallows a groan at the sight in front of him.
He wastes no time wrapping his lips around your clit, swirling tongue in delicious circles. A moan rips out of your throat at the sudden stimulation and he groans wrapping his arms tighter around your thighs.
You move your hips against his face and he shifts his mouth to collect your juices on his tongue before moving back up to your clit. You fight how your thighs want to close around his head but he only presses himself further into you at the shaking against his ears.
You feel him at your entrance, stretching you slowly with two fingers as he continues his work on your clit. He curls his digits into you and your hips buck at the sensation.
“That’s my good girl, fuck yourself on my tongue.” he moans into your folds, flattening his tongue for you to use. He picks up the pace of his hand and you rut against his mouth. The sounds you’ve been swallowing down flowing out of your lips before you can stop them.
“Jungkook, fuck!” you whine and he scissors his fingers faster to bring you to your rapidly approaching peak. Your walls clench and your rhythm falters, he wraps his lips around your clit sucking as he does. Your orgasm rips through you and onto his fingers with a loud moan.
“You’re so beautiful.” he says breathless, he almost sounds amazed that someone can look so beautiful when they cum.
He quickly climbs over you, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand and reconnecting your lips as soon as he reaches your face, he can’t get enough of your lips and you moan at your taste on his mouth.
He slips his pants down his legs, and lines himself up with your entrance, gasping at your wetness on his painfully hard cock. His eyes widen “I didn’t bring a-”
“I’m on the pill.” you reassure, grinding up against his dick.
“Thank fuck.” he sighs, pushing his cock in as he does. Your eyes close at the stretch he’s providing. He pushes in rather slowly savoring every small clench and twitch your walls give him.
He’s quick to pick up the pace seeing as you were more than happy when he was rough earlier. You moan at how well he fucks into you, you hold onto his arms as you’re afraid you’ll float away if you don’t anchor yourself. He smacks his hips against you harder and you gasp at how deep he is, trying your best not to yelp.
He wraps his arm around your back and takes a handful of your hair, yanking against your sore scalp until your chin is pointing at the ceiling, and you can’t contain your moans with your neck so open. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Give me all those beautiful sounds.” he says into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck.
With your new position you’re a moaning mess underneath him and you feel him smirk against your skin as he delivers particularly hard thrusts, the sound of your moans and slapping skin filling the room..
He continues his relentless pace, watching you in awe. “Such a pretty slut.” he groans. “Look at you falling apart on my cock.” you can only whimper in response. He rubs your clit so he can watch your eyes roll back, doing his best to ignore his approaching orgasm so he can feel you cum again on his cock.
“I’m- fucking- I’m gonna-.” you try to warn doing your best to keep your voice steady.
“Good girl, cum for me, beautiful.” he soothes, lacing his finger with yours, mumbling praises into your ear as you clench around him, his hips work hard to keep their pace through your orgasm.
With his not far behind, he thrusts faster finally letting go. He reconnects your lips, the kiss hot and messy as his end is finally in sight.
His hips stutter. “I love you.” He breathes as he releases into you, falling against you shortly after and you laugh, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes while he catches his breath.
“I love you, too.” you whisper and he hums holding you tightly.
“I could get used to hearing that.” he smiles brightly, before he kisses you slowly. — “So…” you begin after the two of you are showered. Jungkook is sitting on the end of your bed ruffling his damp hair. “So?” he perks up, taking your hands in his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you say squeezing his hands, still a little nervous despite the several ‘I love you’s and how your heart pounds when you look in eyes. Still a little nervous that if you hold on too tight he’ll slip through your fingers. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” he says leaning into your touch, and his words calm your racing heart.
“Okay.” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but mirror you.
“Hey.” he says, making sure you’re giving him your full attention, and you meet his gaze. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” — You stand next to Jungkook, fingers laced tightly together, as you stare down the familiar dirt driveway.
“You ready?” he asks, still looking straight ahead at the chicken wire fence.
“No.”
“Yeah, me either.”
He squeezes your hand in his as you walk through the dirt and into the old house, same as you left it. You walk past the living room into the furthest bedroom where Yoongi’s mark is most prominent in the house. You stop at the corner where he carved that heart in the wall that, besides some dust, looks just like the day he put it there.
“Hi Hyung,” Jungkook begins. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to talk to you in a long time.” he looks a tad nervous as if he’ll be reprimanded, he squeezes your hand and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. “I found her,” he says, sounding more sure of himself. “And I wanted you to meet her. Are you surprised?”
“We are too.” you breathe out a laugh. “Hey Yoongs,” your voice is a little shaky. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just didn’t know how.” you breathe. “I miss you, and I want you to know that I’m happy.” you reassure, remembering how he always checked. “We’re happy.” you put your other hand on Jungkook’s.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He adds, placing a kiss on your temple.
“And I’ll take care of him.” you say, and you both put your hand on the heart gently. That final breath that was taken from you those years ago returns and your lungs finally feel full again, and you open your mouth to speak.
“I love you, angel.”
————————
A/N -> Hello! I hope you liked it!!! I’m really proud of this one, feel more than free to send me an ask with your thoughts, I’d love to know what you thought. <3
Tag List -> @ancailinaerach​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @bunnyboyenthusiast​ @singularity-mp3​ 
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linaofthemyscira · 6 years
Text
White House Down (Part 6)
Pairing: Secret Service!Jason x Fem!Secret Service!Reader
Words: 1951
Prompt: Duke Thomas, the President of the United States of America is a huge target for the world. However, Jason Todd, one of the best Secret Service agents in the White House, doesn’t let President Thomas out of his sight. Then you come along, and let’s just say you’re a bit of a distraction. While Jason wrestles with your presence, the White House is attacked which throws his whole world off. Now Jason must work with you to save one of the most important people in the world and the fate of the United States.
Warnings: foul language, smol sexual innuendos
A/N: ENJOY PART 6! More characters have been mentioned and introduced!
(This is a polite reminder that if you are on one of my tag lists and you change your URL PLEASE let me know because ya girl doesn’t have the time or patience to track your new URL down so please TELL ME! Also, tags for this story are still open, SO SEND AN ASK IF YOU WANNA BE ON THIS STORY’S TAGLIST THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!)
☆ ☆ ☆
The three of you exited into the hall, guns up and ready to fire, but you came into contact with no one.
“Okay, follow me,” you beckoned the two men to follow you as you started making your way up the stairs. Out of nowhere, you came face to face with one of Talia’s men, and on instinct, you headbutted him, then punched his throat. The goon stepped back to catch his breath but you acted fast and grabbed his jacket to fling him down the stairs. Jason and Duke stepped back and watched as you ruthlessly took down the goon by yourself.
“Woah…” Duke breathed out.
You picked up the man and in one swift move, you snapped his neck like you did to his friend not too long ago. Suddenly, you felt yourself being pinned against the wall, a hand around your neck. You opened your eyes and saw a huge man choking you against that wall (and not in a sexy way).
“Talia will be happy I caught something for her don’t you think?” he asked you.
“Fuck….you,” you gasped out. Before you could kick him back, the barrel of a gun was pressed against the second goon’s temple and a bullet was sent through his head. You fell to the floor as his hand loosened around your neck.
“Are you okay?” you heard Jason’s voice above you. You looked up as you caught your breath and saw him looking down at you concernedly. Jason sank down to your level and placed a hand on your back.
“I’m fine,” you rasped. With Jason’s help, you got up and turned to him and Duke.
“The stairs are no longer an option,” you said lowly. “We’ll take the elevator. You two grab those guards and let’s go.”
Duke and Jason hesitated before you half-yelled at them to move their asses. The three of you piled into the elevator and waited to hit a button.
“Okay, put the uniforms on,” you ordered them.
“Y/N, take a rest, you almost got choked to death,” Duke suggested.
“No disrespect sir, but we have no time for rests. People’s lives are at stake, and so far, we’re their only hope,” you told them. Jason agreed, but he saw you struggling with his own eyes. Had he not stepped up and killed the man, you would be dead and as much as he hated to admit it, they would be screwed without you.
“She’s right Duke,” Jason told him. He turned to you and crossed his arms.
“What are you waiting for?” you asked.
“Some privacy,” Jason said. You raised your eyebrow and rolled your eyes, but caught a hatch in the top of the elevator car.
“Lift me up so I can open that hatch and then hoist me into the shaft,” you commanded Jason. He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. “If you’re going to say a dick joke, please don’t.”
Jason scowled as he picked you up, not liking how you were preventing him from trying to lighten up the situation. He gave Duke a look, but he shrugged back at Jason. Finally, you got the hatch door open and you crawled on top of the car. You closed the hatch, which was in the form of a grate, so you could still see inside the elevator car.
“Hurry up and change and go to the second floor,” you told the two men. They changed into the uniforms, dumped the bodies outside and went to the second floor. As the elevator car moved up, your heart raced nervously. You had no idea what was going to happen, all you knew was that you couldn’t afford to let Jason nor Duke die in this battle.
The car came to a screeching halt and you breathed out, watching as the doors to the second floor opened and in poured about 6 more guards. Jason and Duke tried to get out, but they stopped them.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a guard asked.
“I have to use the bathroom,” Duke said while keeping his head down.
“Look at me while you’re speaking!” the man yelled.
“We both have to use the...the bathroom,” Jason internally groaned at how lame that excuse was.
“Just hold it, we need to meet with Talia,” the same guard pushed Jason back to his spot, which didn’t go over well with him.
“Alright, I’ve had enough of this bullshit,” he pulled his guns and shot the guard in the head with no hesitation. Blood spattered on Duke, who stood stunned. In no less than 3 seconds, the other guards acted and ambushed Jason and Duke.
“Idiot,” you muttered before opening the hatch and landing on a guard. His head hit the elevator floor and he was out.
You quickly aided Jason and Duke in taking down the guards and in a matter of minutes, the only people standing were the three of you.
“Now that that’s over with…” you trailed off as you pressed the “open door” button. You walked out of the elevator, Duke, and Jason close on your heels.
“Y/N…” Jason grabbed your arm and spun you to face him.
“What?” you asked as he looked into your eyes.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked slowly.
“I’m fine,” you told him. “I promise.”
Jason let go of you and you continued on to the President’s room. When the three of you arrived, you shut the door and had Jason help you move the dresser to block the doors.
“I found it,” Duke said as he held up the burner phone.
“Pass it here,” Jason held out his hands. Duke tossed the burner to Jason who caught it and immediately dialed the number for the Pentagon Command Center.
“Hello?” a voice answered.
“Babs?” Jason asked.
“Oh my god, you’re okay. We had complete radio silence from the White House for about 2 and a half hours. What’s going on?” Barbara asked. Before Jason had the chance to respond, you took the phone from him.
“The White House has undergone a hostile takeover from a terrorist group--quite possibly the same one who bombed the Capitol building. Hostages have been gathered, and the remaining agents are in a safe room. The President is alive and standing a few feet away from me,” you explained to Babs.
“...Okay...who is this?” she asked, and then it was Jason’s turn to rip the phone out of your hands.
“I’m sorry that was one of my subordinates. Everything she said was correct though,” Jason said.
“Okay, are you going to try to free the hostages? Or should I send in the national guard?” Barbara asked. Jason glanced at you, meeting your impatient glare.
“Hold off on the national guard for now. We’ll take care of the hostages,” Jason replied. You raised an eyebrow in reaction.
“So, do you know who is orchestrating this whole thing?” Barbara asked.
“A woman named Talia. I think it’s Talia Al Ghul, Bruce’s old flame.” Jason told her.
“Talia? Oh god.” Barbara sighed, “I’m gathering her files now.”
“Thanks. We need as much info as we can get,” Jason rubbed the back of his neck.
While you waited for Jason to get off the phone, you turned to find Duke in his closet, searching for something.
“Mr. President, is there anything I can help you with?” you asked him.
“Nope, I’m just changing my shoes, that’s all,” he said from inside his closet. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and waited to see what new shoes he had on. When Duke re-entered the bedroom, your eyes averted to his shoes and you sighed.
“Like my Jordans?” he smiled. “Eh? Eh? Come on, [Y/N], tell me you like them.”
“I guess they’re pretty cool,” you smiled back at him.
“Pretty cool? [Y/N], these shoes are amazing. It’s like walking on clouds,” he slung his arm around your shoulder.
“Well, I’m not into men’s shoes so I wouldn’t know,” you smirked at him.
“Good point,” Duke said.
“Hey, you two,” Jason said from behind you. You and Duke turned to face Jason, who had hung up with Barbara.
“Talia’s guys are gonna be here at any second we have to move,” Jason told you.
“What’s the plan?” you asked.
“Well...things are a little more urgent now.” Jason frowned.
“How so?” you asked.
“Damian is one of the hostages,” Jason said grimly.
“Who’s Damian?” you asked confusedly.
“Shit,” Duke responded, “Has he killed anyone yet?”
“No, but he probably will start if we don’t get our asses down there and get him,” Jason said.
“Who is Damian?!” you asked again.
“Bruce’s son!” Jason replied.
“Who is Bruce!” you asked.
“I don’t have time for this. Listen, the plan is simple. We get down there, kill those bastards and get the hostages out of here. No one is coming to help us,” Jason explained.
“That’s because you told ‘Babs’ not to send anyone,” You said.
“I figured you wanted to save them yourself! Sue me!” Jason scoffed.
“We can use all the help we can--” you began, but Jason put your hand over your mouth.
“Someone is coming. Everyone into the closet,” he whispered. Duke crawled into the closet first, then you and Jason followed. Jason shut the door to the walk-in closet and waited. “It’s hot in here,” you whispered.
“Shhh!” Jason shushed you.
“Fuck you too,” you whispered again.
Outside, you could hear the voices of the mercenaries who served as Talia’s men.
“I thought I heard talking in here.”
“You’re just crazy, Louie. C’mon, let’s get outta here and back to Talia.”
“Wait can’t we just check in case they are in here?”
“Fine! Go check!”
“Fuck,” Jason whispered.
“Relax, we have guns,” you whispered back.
“So do they,” Jason whispered again.
The three of you waited in silence for one of the men to open the closet door, but after a few minutes and nothing happened, you all relaxed.
Your relaxation was short-lived, though, because just as you sighed in relief, the closet door swung open and one of the mercenaries came in. Jason swiftly pulled out his gun and shot the guard before he had a chance to shoot any of you.
“Louie!” his partner came in, gun ready.
You, Jason and Duke all stood up, Duke behind the two of you. You and Jason both had your guns up, prepared to shoot.
“Put the gun down, man. Let’s be civil here,” Jason said lowly.
“We’re invading the fucking White House, there’s nothing civil about this. Not to mention how civil it was when you fucking KILLED LOUIE!” the guard yelled. He had a point, even though you hated to admit it.
“Talia is using you, she doesn’t care what happens to you. To her, you’re just a pawn. You’re expendable, and she will not hesitate to kill you off as soon as her whole scheme is over, should she succeed.” Jason told him, trying to get into his head. The guard lowered his gun and looked at the ground in confusion.
You and Jason also lowered your guns, believing you had subdued the mercenary. However, the guard suddenly raised his gun at the three of you with a devilish smile.
“Luckily, I don’t care,” he growled and shot his gun at the group. Jason fired at him no more than 2 seconds after and the unnamed guard fell to the floor, dead.
“Haha, missed me, bitch,” he cocked his gun.
“Jason...it didn’t miss her.” Duke’s voice came from behind him. Jason quickly turned and found you on the floor holding your thigh in pain.
“Shit!”
☆ ☆ ☆
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stopforamoment · 6 years
Text
Before the School Year Starts: Bucket List (4 of 4)
Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)
Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks
Word Count: 1,372
Rating: M for Language
Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.
This is just a little story arc to tie up some loose ends from the weekend and give some more background info. This takes place Sunday night, after Bastien’s nap. The school year starts on Tuesday, September 11th.
Summary: This is basically a bunch of drabbles that wrap up the final loose ends of that weekend.
Rinda had left a note in the car for Bastien, but he waited until he got back to the palace before reading it.
Bastien,
I know you get embarrassed when I gush about thanking you, but unless you start being an absolute jerk, you have to deal with it. Thank you for the entire weekend. Thank you for giving us the tour of the palace and showing me the library—even though that made your weekend an absolute nightmare. Thank you for introducing us to Drake and for taking the time to play football with Henry and take him for ice cream. Thank you for the spumoni and for taking us downtown and ordering for me when I was overwhelmed with options. Thank you for showing us the secret garden and playing tag in the maze. Thank you for taking care of my foot when I was a klutz and stepped on a rock. Thank you taking us fishing and for checking on me after I got done swimming. Thank you for letting me share food with you when we were eating lunch. Thank you for letting me help you this weekend and thank you for trusting me enough to let me drive so you could get some sleep. Thank you for dealing with my rambles and being there for me with . . . everything.
Rinda
. . . . .
It was late, but Bastien was still going through information with Mara. “Bastien, I reviewed Rinda’s archive searches from this weekend and her previous visits. She’s . . . it’s amazing how thorough she is. And she goes down some rabbit holes with her searches--” Mara had a grin on her face. She knew enough about Rinda to imagine her geeking out and getting sidetracked with a new piece of information to explore. “But she was spot on with what she found. And didn’t find.” Mara was referring to the missing items on the list Rinda gave Bastien. “So, she asked about the Code Locusta? I’m amazed there’s a record of that anywhere.” Bastien nodded. “I didn’t tell her, but she already figured out it’s something with poison. And besides, the official story is that the Queen was poisoned, so it makes sense.” He paused. “Rinda’s going to be busy with teaching and everything with the safety reform. And Henry. But she’s good at this and I know we can trust her. You know she must be used to confidentially being married to Jameson. I mean, a police officer.” Mara raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “I think we consider asking her for help. I know she’s worried about security for the children when the king and queen visit, and she’s the type of person who needs to do something to help.” Mara nodded in agreement.
“Mara, why did you tell Rinda that she should call you if I’m working too much or being a pain in her ass?” Mara looked in shock and then started laughing. “Bastien, I gave her my number in case there was a security emergency and you weren’t available, or to contact me if she found other research. Really? Do you think I would tell her to call me if you were being ‘a pain in the ass’? That’s a 24/7 hotline.”
Bastien blushed. Rinda lied to him so he’d get some sleep, and it didn’t even occur to him to call her bluff. Mara chuckled. “Actually, I think that is a good idea. Dealing with you? That woman is going to need all the help she can get. I’m also working on giving her official clearance to drive the palace vehicles at any time. I can’t believe you were going to drive with only two hours of sleep in 48 hours instead of letting someone else drive her home.” Mara got out her phone and messaged Rinda, much to Bastien’s chagrin.
. . . . .
When Bastien got back to his room he grabbed Rinda’s gift, her copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, off his dresser. She mentioned that she sometimes left notes in books. Did she do that in this book?
He flipped through the pages and smiled when he saw the piece of paper.
Bastien Lykel’s Bucket List
√ 1. Climb a volcano
2.
3.
4.
5.
He got into bed, thinking about his bucket list. There were things that he wanted to do when he had free time . . . when he retired . . . but not an actual list. Suddenly he got up and grabbed the shirt he wore earlier that day. It still smelled like lavender.
Sleeping naked. It was the stupidest thing, but he always needed to fall asleep partially dressed in case there was an emergency. Even when Rinda screamed this weekend he was barefoot and scrambling to put on a shirt, desperate to reach her and contain the situation in time. Sleeping naked was so liberating, but he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to do that in . . . he didn’t know how long.
What else?
It was 2:00 AM. He had to be up in three hours. Fuck it. He took off his lounge pants and boxers. But just in case, he moved a chair close to his bed and draped them across, easy to grab. He laid on top of his bed, fully stretched out. The air was cool against his skin. God this feels good.
Suddenly he grabbed his phone to message Rinda. Shit, be sure it’s just a message. No accidental dick pics!
What’s on your bucket list?
Bastien was surprised to see the dots moving. She was still up?
Well, being there to see Henry grow up, maybe be a grandma when he’s a lot older. But stuff just for me?
Yes. And how is the sleepover going? Why are you still up?
If you thought I’d be sleeping why did you message me? Oh, and speaking of, I got an interesting message from Mara.
Yeah, I was just tired. Otherwise I would have seen through your deception. So how was the sleepover?
Some of the kids are still up. Henry and Phillip, of course. And some of the older ones. But we’ve threatened them enough that they should at least stay in their tents now.
So . . . bucket list?
Hmm. Dance the tango outside in some awesome city outside of the U.S. Like, how there are street dancers in South America and stuff.
What else? You should have at least five things.
What about you?
Climbing a volcano. Your turn.
You did that already. Doesn’t count. For me, see the Northern Lights in Iceland. Go to Scotland and walk across a moor when the heather is in bloom. Sorry, a part of me is still bummed that didn’t work out. Finish seeing all of the states in the United States. Seven more to go. Haven’t done Hawai’i. Could climb a volcano there LOL.
Go to Japan and have an amazing sushi dinner. I guess it’s mostly traveling and experiencing new things. Otherwise the bigger picture of figuring out what the hell I’m doing with the rest of my life.
Your turn.
Hmm. It’s classified.
Liar. I want that list filled out before Drake replaces you. It’s your homework, okay?
Yes, Mrs. Parks.
. . . . .
The boys finally fell asleep and Rinda was able to crawl into bed and get snuggled in. Mmm. It smelled like Bastien. Rinda remembered when she needed to sleep with Jameson’s shirt. She tried putting his body spray on her pillow to remind her of him. But it was never the same. There was something about a person’s scent. Something that was more than the body spray or cologne, or the laundry detergent or soap they used. It was all of that . . . and more. That was one of the reasons she always made sure her sheets had a fragrance. Lavender. Eucalyptus. Clean Linen-scent laundry detergent. It had to be some kind of substitute, so she could snuggle in and try to forget what she so desperately longed for.
Rinda hugged her pillow and breathed in Bastien’s scent.
God, I miss this.
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adolfov6806658-blog · 6 years
Text
FALSE:: MISTAKE: UNSUPPORTED ENCODING
Lately I created a comprehensive article on the key maxims from Sun-Pluto get in touches with. Peppa Pig: Very good, nurse practitioner Suzy. Father Swine: Mum Swine and I utilized to become very efficient ballet. Mum Pig: Yes, our experts forgot Father Porker. Daddy Pig: George, take me my old ping pong racket. Storyteller: Dad Swine is actually massaging the 2 sticks together to ignite the fire. Mum Porker: Dad Porker, you should not mention such things about your personal bro, specifically in front of the kids. Gran Pig: As Well As listed here is actually some tossed salad brought in along with Grandfather's tomatoes, lettuce and cucumber. Grandfather Swine: Yes, they should be famished. Mum Swine: Yes, let's go residence. Mom Swine: Mr Dinosaur. I talked to the very same regret, Beth, Ive missed those times, too. Storyteller: Peppa and Mother Pig are property. Daddy Swine: Okay, George. Mother Porker: Make sure, Daddy Swine. Mom Pig: Dad Swine. They do not expect that the free of charge right to vote, to delight in metropolitan civil rights, and to become educated, are going to come in a second; they do not expect to observe the predisposition and prejudices from years go away at the blast of a horn; however they are absolutely specific that the technique for a fitsupplement18.info people to get their acceptable legal rights is actually certainly not by voluntarily throwing all of them out as well as urging that they do certainly not want all of them; that the technique for an individuals to obtain appreciation is certainly not by consistently diminishing as well as ridiculing on their own; that, however, Negroes need to urge frequently, in time and away from time, that ballot is needed to modern-day manhood, that pervert prejudice is actually atrocity, and also black kids require learning and also white colored boys. Peppa Swine: Yes, I'm taking Teddy. Mom Pig: I'll call Suzy Lamb's mom. He was formerly a resident editor of the Moments of India. Grandpa Swine: Peppa Father Porker: Don't be silly, Peppa. Storyteller: Dad Swine soars the kite. Peppa Pig: Father, you let go. I kissed Meggie and she kissed me. Our team smooched with passionate enthusiasm. Mother Swine: Naughty, messy Dad. Gran Swine, let's play catch. Peppa Porker: Yes, Daddy. Peppa Swine: Oh. Due to the fact that George likes it, our team just participate in drawback. Or even about how I got up Sunday evening and discovered Punk drawing my cock, which had not been unique, however after that he got on panel as well as glided his ass down over my slobbered up hard on along with a little bit of grunt and also pointed out Yeah, fuck me, dad", which was. Peppa Porker: Mommy, Daddy, our experts've created an opportunity capsule. It is actually a long history from individuals not caring that undeserved privilege still takes place today. Mommy Swine: No, Peppa. Narrator: Father Swine is taking the stabilisers off Peppa's bike. After I ended up pissing as well as Criminal wrapped up drainpiping my cocks down his throat, I offered him a breather, which meant putting him to work, however without any buttocks sexual activity, for the following hour approximately, brushing up a year's truly worth from gunk away from the log cabin, spreading out the mattresses on the bunks, spreading our huge double resting bag out on one ... Thug would certainly be actually utilized in the day by all the guys, equally I would certainly use their contributions to the weekend break enjoyable within the day on my own, yet he would certainly copulate me ... and also ultimately, carrying pails from water from the pump outside to fill out the big wash bathtub so he and also I might wash. Are you going to fuck me, daddy?" Punk pointed out from his covering, where he had actually huddled along with his head on my feet, as I checked out, dropped in notion. Narrator: Peppa has to locate where George is actually concealing. Mum Pig: Our team wish to acquire some brand new footwear for Peppa, please. I could possibly tell you how Little princess as well as Criminal stayed under the desk all the time Sunday while we participated in online poker and just sucked penis all day, relocating from someone to the upcoming, as well as just how they must possess each ingested a quart from cum that time, or even how Mike obtained irritated with Cookie Monster because he simply would not cease sobbing whenever a person fucked him, so he squandered of the casino poker activity and fucked the 5 years of age 4 times over the following two hours, pushing Cookie Beast to wash his cock off as well as pull him hard again in between each fuck.
5 The male below shall in all times while in the presence from Mistress be called for to use a dog collar as well as tag, chain, dick cage, dick band, reception extending device, areola clamps or even other adornments unless excused through Girlfriend.
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sugawara-sweetheart · 4 years
Note
14 smut 21 fluff 1 angst, with komori konoha futakuchi for the kmk pls 🥺
i hope you enjoy!
fmk & prompts: futakuchi, komori & konoha
warnings: nsfw, recorded sex (consensual), degradation
fuck: konoha akinori
14. “you sound so pretty moaning like that.”
the flash is almost blinding but you don’t really mind when you’re kneeling between konoha’s legs with his cock shoved down your mouth. it makes your pussy clench and your panties wetter knowing he’s filming you as you wrap your lips around his length, bobbing your head along as you flutter your lashes at the camera. his cock is warm and weighty against your tongue but you ignore the ache in your jaw to lick and press your tongue against his throbbing veins and suck the sensitive head whilst stroking his shaft.
“you take my cock so well. look at you, you filthy slut. you like everyone seeing what a cock-hungry whore you are? like people seeing your slutty mouth stuffed with my cock?” you moan at his words, enjoying the symphony of moans and grunts that escape him, sounding like music to your ears. his thighs quiver as you fondle his balls, making you smirk around his length before you pull yourself off him with a pop. a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his cockhead, making konoha moan as you stroke his dick.
“i love being your little slut, akinori.” you smile, batting your lashes at the camera and pouting to show off your wet, swollen lips smeared with precrum and drool. “it makes me happy hearing how good i make you feel.” konoha hisses when you envelope just the sensitive head of his cock, sucking it enough to make him moan loudly, head falling back and eyes rolling as he resists the urge to fuck into you. you release him again, smiling coyly. “you sound so pretty moaning like that.”
marry: futakuchi kenji
21. “i’m pretty certain that you are the only thing that fills my head these days.”
futakuchi likes to tease you whichever way he can. whether it’s playfully tugging your hair or flicking your forehead he always has some way of irritating you, just to see you pay some attention to him and have his heart thumping.
you’re gazing off out of the window, admiring the hills from the view of the fourth floor library and your mind painting fantasies of you and your crush when futakuchi taps your head with the end of his pen, making you wince as you swat at him.
“what are you doing?!” you scowl, ignoring the way your cheeks heat up and your stomach flutters with butterflies when you lock eyes with futakuchi. he’s smirking, twirling the weapon of offense between his fingers.
“you were daydreaming, looking all flustered and practically drooling.” your cheeks feel hotter. “your head is filled with fairies.” you scoff as you turn back to your books, rolling your eyes at your friend’s words.
“i’m pretty certain you are the only thing that fills my head these days. so i guess you’re a fairy then-”!
you don’t even register what you’ve said till you hear futakuchi splutter beside you and you’re shocked to see his cheeks flushed bright pink.
“what? in a good way?!” he cries that you can’t help but laugh.
“what other way?”
“ha, you’re in love with me, i knew it.” he sneers but it’s less effective when his hands are clammy and trembling and his face flushed scarlet. “s-so...date then?” you thought he’d never ask.
kill: komori motoya
1. “you really didn’t notice, did you? congratulations, you just broke my heart.”
komori stares at his phone. the screen is blank. his fingers itch as his mind wanders to you. are you also at home like he is, lying on your bed and thinking about him? would you reply if he messages? would you pick up the phone if he calls?
he can’t sit still with his mind racing so he has to pick up the phone. his finger hovers over your contact name, adorned with hearts and your face in that circle. he loves you, his heart thumping with so much love. he presses dial.
you pick up just before it cuts off. loud music meets komori’s ears.
“hello?”
“hey!” you sound happy. too happy, too wild, too intocated. “what’s up?” komori’s throat feels dry and his chest tight.
“i just wanted to say...i love you.” stupid midnight confessions said to a drunk person. there’s a pause. a giggle over the pounding music.
“yeah, love you too.” casual. non-committal. no meaning. there’s a mumble of a deep voice and then you’re gone, silence falling over komori.
he doesnt want to acknowledge his own stinging tears. you’re always too busy for him but have time to meet other men in clubs. you always say sweet words with no meanings.
you always give all the right signs and mean none of them.
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