#and I love a mess. I could talk about mess all day

[foreid]

smoke and stack come into the shop looking for bo chow only to find y/n at front desk and bo chow discreetly under her hehe

anon i love the way u think! one eater chow blurb coming right up :3

your hair was a mess, curls sticking up through every end and frizz spiking through its texture.

lips parted letting strings of whines as your husband was kneeled down in front of you, tongue lapping slow stripes against your slit.

the day was slow, only usual customers coming in and barely even meeting you at the counter.

bo thought he could use it to his advantage, missing the taste of your every aspect against his lips.

forearms holding you up against the counter, legs trembling from behind it as you hid moans between your lips.

“b— bo… someone’s comin’.” you gasped out, nails digging into the edge of the counter as he started to suck against your clit, knees buckling beneath your dress the more he continued.

he was humming in content, devouring you with full lips, his entire upper body hid by the fullness of your skirt.

your hand quickly covered a moan trying to escape your mouth as two men stepped through the doors, the jingle of the bell alerting you back to reality.

they walked sternly towards the counter, they were broad and a lot taller than you, staring down at you as they stood a respectable distance from the counter.

you swallowed dryly, the extra bodies in the room seeming to not stop bo at all.

“h— good evenin’, how ca— can i help ya?” a chirpy yet cracked voice, as if a moan was threatening to escape past your words.

the twin wearing red sort of just stood there, staring around the market curiously.

the other man, wearing blue, stared for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak.

“we mean no harm, missus, jus’ lookin’ for bo chow.” he spoke to you and his voice was low, gruttal, but he looked like he meant business, intimidating you for just a moment.

“is he here?”

only for a moment did you almost forget about the sensation between your legs.

and just as you thought, bo was not about to let you go through this without a fight.

before you spoke up, you felt a digit teasing your entrance, and as you were opening your mouth to speak, he was shoving it inside of you. knuckles deep.

“he’s— oh!” you perked up, gasping and quickly slapping your hand against your mouth.

you stared up at the two men, eyes wide as if even you were shocked at the noise you just made.

they both just looked at you with an insane amount of concern in their eyes.

you held a finger up, signaling them to give you a second as you swallowed dryly. clearing your throat.

when you tried speaking up again, all you did was choke up. so you decided to just expect your fate.

shaking your head ‘no’, and they seemed to get the hint.

one of them slowly nodded, a cocked up brow as if he was trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

“well. in that case, tell ‘im smoke needs t’ talk to ‘im.” with one last nod, as if to say ‘thank you’, he and his twin walked out the clear doors.

when their figures discarded out the stores line of view, you slammed your forehead against the countertop, letting out all the choked moans you’ve been trying to hide.

your hands grabbed at whatever was near, lips parted as bo started to fuck you with his fingers, plunging an extra one inside.

his tongue didn’t stop, and your hips started to rut against his face, your clit bumping against his nose, adding onto the pleasure.

he somehow managed to fit two digits knuckles deep inside of you, curling them against the plush of your walls.

that was it. he hit a familiar spot and you came undone against his lips.

your moans were unhinged and loud, legs feeling weak and knees practically giving out.

bo let you ride out your orgasm against him, letting you come down from your star-seeing peak.

one last moan of his name and a string of curses, your upper body became slack against the counter.

he appeared in front of you at some point that you couldn’t recollect because of the state of euphoria the orgasm had you in.

you managed to pick yourself back up, eyes meeting with a very proud bo chow.

his lips were glistening, eyes low and full of nothing but lust.

the look of frustration on your face made him chuckle, his hand reaching to your lower back in order to hold you close.

“did s’good, darlin’. taste j’s as good.” he murmured against your mouth, pressing his lips with yours.

lewdly tasting yourself momentarily. you still had a brain of putty, melting into the kiss as easy as ever.

“‘m give it to ya s’good tonigh’. my pretty lil’ wife.” he hummed as he broke off the kiss, hands grabbing at your ass through the dress, somehow simultaneously pulling you closer.

his words and actions screwed a quiet giggle out of you, fingers curling around his suspenders.

“i’d like that. maybe.” you teased, staring at your fingers as they played with the suspenders then back up into his eyes.

his head tilted a bit, grinning against your mouth again. “yeah? tha’s what ya want, peach?” before you could even respond, he was kissing you again.

this time with more fever, a hand grabbing beneath your knee to hold your leg against his side while he devoured your lips.

this is exactly what life was about.

a sexy husband who loved everything about you,

and that's exactly who bo chow was.

[pretty-royals]

Missing something

| Summary : Once upon a quiet morning a small thing was forgotten—just a ring, simple and gold, left behind without a thought. And yet, for the rest of the day, Sanji grew quiet, distant, and strangely flustered. You watched him dodge your gaze, sidestep your touch, wrapped up in a secret he wouldn’t speak aloud.

Type : Fluff

Warnings : Slight angst on Sanji’s side,very soft hurt/comfort, Married™

The morning sun poured through the porthole of the shared bedroom, casting golden light over the curve of your shoulder. You stirred with a soft sigh, warm and wrapped in the lingering scent of Sanji’s cologne and the faintest trace of last night’s perfume—an blend of lavender and black tea that always clung to him after a late-night cleaning spree in the kitchen.

He was already gone, of course. Sanji always rose before everyone else, like the sun itself couldn’t function without him in the galley. You smiled sleepily, fingers trailing over the sheets where he’d lain beside you. But as your hand wandered, it caught on something small and cold resting on the edge of the nightstand.

Your brow furrowed.

You sat up, blinking away the fog of sleep, and picked it up.

A wedding ring.

His wedding ring.

The same gold band you had both exchanged months ago. You’d both promised to never take them off unless absolutely necessary.

Your lips twisted into a crooked smile. “Really, Sanji?”

He must’ve left it behind during his morning routine. That man could be precise in a fight and in the kitchen, but he was an absolute mess when it came to organizing his own life. How he managed to forget his ring of all things, though, was beyond you.

Still holding the ring between your fingers, you padded out of the room barefoot, intent on returning it.

—|

Sanji was in hell.

Not actual hell. No, not the fiery, brimstone kind.

This was a personal hell—a very specific nightmare built for only one man:

He had lost his wedding ring.

It started like any other morning. He’d gotten up early, brushed his teeth, showered, prepped breakfast, and was halfway through chopping vegetables before he looked down at his hand and realized the unmistakable absence of cool metal against his skin.

Panic had gripped him like a vice.

His first instinct had been to retrace his steps. He’d run back to the bathroom, rifled through towels, checked the sink drain like a madman, then sprinted back to the bedroom to toss the sheets like a burglar.

Nothing.

He hadn’t told you. How could he?

He couldn’t face you without it. You meant everything to him. That ring was more than a symbol—it was you. Losing it felt like he’d just dropped his entire world down a drainpipe.

So, he avoided you.

Which was hard, because you kept trying to talk to him.

You’d poked your head into the galley once that morning, the ring held behind your back. “Hey love, you okay? You seem a little distracted today.”

He hadn’t even looked up from the cutting board. “Oui, ma chérie, everything is perfect. Just focused on breakfast. Run along, okay?”

The confused look on your face had almost broken him.

Then there was lunch. You’d come by again, ring in hand.

“Sanji, can we talk?”

“Sorry, lunch rush! Later, my sweet! Mwah!”

He’d all but shoved a tray of soba into Usopp’s hands and practically dove into the pantry to avoid you. Each time he saw you, guilt tore another hole in his gut.

⸻

By the time dinner came around, you were fuming.

You’d tried giving him the ring three more times. Each time, he brushed you off. The most recent attempt, he’d actually ducked under the table when he saw you walking in.

You stood outside the galley, arms crossed, the ring clutched tightly in your palm. Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe he didn’t want to wear it anymore?

No. That didn’t make sense.

Sanji adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on, to the point of idiocy. Whatever this was, it wasn’t about not wanting to wear the ring.

But damn if it wasn’t hurting.

⸻

It was late.

Most of the crew had turned in for the night. The lights on the Sunny’s deck were low, the sound of the waves soft against the hull. You sat on the bed, legs tucked beneath you, the ring sitting on the pillow beside you like a small, accusing ghost.

The door creaked.

You looked up.

Sanji stood in the doorway, half in shadow, half cast in the soft golden light from the hall. He looked exhausted. Hair disheveled. Tie undone. Shoulders slumped.

But worst of all—he looked ashamed.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

You didn’t respond. You just looked at him.

He walked in slowly, as if approaching a minefield, and sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands twisted together.

“I…” he began, then stopped, cleared his throat, and started again. “I have something to tell you, mon amour.”

You waited.

“I lost it,” he whispered. “I lost my ring. I noticed this morning and I… I’ve been looking for it all day. I tore apart the ship. I searched the kitchen, the vents, even the damn seagull nests. I was too embarrassed to tell you. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care. That I wasn’t careful. I’m so sorry.”

He still didn’t look at you.

You picked up the ring and held it out to him, your voice calm.

“You mean this wedding ring?”

Sanji froze.

His head whipped toward you, eyes wide, jaw slightly open.

You arched a brow, voice carefully even. “The one I tried to give you since the start of the day? The same one you forgot in the bedroom this morning?”

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

“I—I left it in the bedroom ?” he croaked, horrified.

You nodded slowly.

“I found it on the edge of the nightstand. I figured you took it off to wash your face or something and forgot. I tried to give it back. Multiple times. You even ducked behind Luffy once.”

“I thought you were mad at me,” he said, eyes still wide. “I thought you—”

“Sanji,” you interrupted, voice softening, “I’m not mad that you forgot it. I’m mad you ignored me all day. You could’ve just told me.”

He took the ring from your hand like it was sacred, eyes shimmering. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

You sighed and shifted forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing your forehead to the side of his neck.

“Sanji, I married you because I love you, not because of a ring. That’s just a piece of metal. A beautiful one, yes, but you are the reason it matters.”

He turned his head slightly, his nose brushing yours.

“I’ve been a fool,” he murmured. “A lovesick, panicking, fool.”

You kissed his cheek. “Yes, but you’re my fool.”

He slipped the ring back onto his finger slowly, reverently, as though he were putting it on for the first time.

Then he turned to face you fully, cupping your face in his hands.

“Je t’aime” he whispered.

You smiled. “Je t’aime aussi. Now, no more hiding from me behind dining tables.”

He laughed, breathless and warm, pulling you into a real kiss this time—soft, deep, full of the silent apologies and gratitude he couldn’t quite say aloud.

When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“I swear, I’ll never take it off again.”

“Good,” you teased. “Because next time, I might just make you earn it back.”

His eyes lit up, lips curving. “Does that mean you’ll punish me, Mrs. Vinsmoke?”

You smacked his shoulder lightly. “It means I’ll make you sleep in the kitchen.”

He laughed again, and this time it was full, bright, and wholly relieved.

And just like that, the weight lifted, replaced with something infinitely warmer—something that sparkled even brighter than a silver ring under moonlight.

Love, as chaotic and imperfect as it was, had never tasted sweeter.

By the command and exclusive favor of Her Most Radiant and Serene Highness, the Princess.You are hereby named the Special Guest of the Court : @clare-875

The Princess thanks you dearly—for your wit, your charm, and most importantly, your service to the crown.

The Court :

@dazaiwifey @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @sle3pymarimo @sweet-3-whispers

[introspectiveextrovertive-blog]

Part 4 - Paige's Birthday

Fall - 2021

Today was Paige’s birthday. 

Azzi woke feeling giddy, excited to finally gift her best friend the gift she’s been putting together for the last two months. Her day was full with weights and classes, and although she was seeing Paige later in the evening to celebrate, she immediately found her phone and called her on FaceTime, running into a study space down the hall to not wake her roommate. It was 6AM.

Paige picked up on the fifth ring. She was surrounded by darkness, and her eyes looked swollen from sleep, face half squished into her pillow, lips slightly glistening from the drool Azzi knew escaped her mouth when she was in deep REM sometimes. Cute, Azzi thought.

“Bro, it’s 6 in the morning,” the birthday girl said groggily, voice scratchy.

Azzi beamed, angling the phone down at her face so Paige could see her full smile. “Happy birthday P Buckets!” She exclaimed. “You’re old as hell now, bighead.”

At hearing her words, Paige pushed more of her face into the pillow, feeling a smile creep up on her face. She felt a blush coming on as well and wasn’t sure why; perhaps because Azzi was the first to wish her a happy birthday, because that was such an Azzi thing to do.

“You’re the biggest head for calling me this early,” Paige grumbled, sliding a hand down her face, trying to wake herself up. She opened her eyes and smiled fondly at Azzi through the screen, “Thanks dawg, ‘preciate it.”

“Are you excited for later?” Azzi sat now on a bean bag in the room, her cow slippers tapping the floor. The team had decided they were all going out to celebrate Paige, as they had a later practice tomorrow.

“Yeah, should be fun. Gonna get you drunk,” Paige was pushing half her face into her pillow again, a mischievous smirk on her face.

Azzi slightly blanched at the thought, her body always being a temple to her. She rolled her eyes, “You can try.”

She let out a quick grunt as she got up from the bean bag, the cut t-shirt she slept in slightly falling down her shoulder. Paige’s eyes flickered to her friend’s exposed collarbone and chest, suddenly feeling warm.

“I’ve got to start getting ready for lift and class but I just wanted to call you and let you know I’m glad you were born or whatever,” Azzi said casually, slightly pacing the small study room. “And I love you, or something.” She blushed at her own words, trying hard to continue looking at Paige directly.

Paige stared at her for a moment, mouth slightly open and her lips turned up. She settled on a small smirk, “You’re so corny.”

Azzi groaned and threw her head back, “Shut up.”

Paige chuckled softly. After a beat she replied, “I love you too, Az.”

___________________________________________

Paige’s day was filled with calls and texts from friends and families, even getting a text from Geno that read Happy birthday kid. Strangers around campus even knew it was her birthday somehow, something she could attribute to the phenomenon of her celebrity. It did feel strange to have someone wish her a happy birthday that she didn’t know the name of, however. Regardless, she was on cloud 9.

Her apartment had been unofficially assigned as the pregame spot, something she didn’t mind at all. Her teammates filtered in and out of her room as she got ready, hyping her up and making her laugh.

“Oh, she looking like a dime and a half,” Nika hollered, adding highlighter to Paige’s cheekbones.

“I’m a bad bitch, you already know,” Paige sang absentmindedly, scrolling her phone as her friend did her makeup.

Nika took this distracted opportunity to slightly clear her throat. “So,” She started, “Tryna look pretty for anyone tonight?”

Paige scrunched her brows at the question, slightly laughing. She hadn’t talked to anyone like that since last spring. “Nah, dude. I can’t even remember the last time I was messing with someone like that. I got this shit on for myself,” She cheesed at her friend through the mirror. 

Nika, about to continue her subtle interrogation, was interrupted as Paige stood abruptly. “Azzi texted she’s here, be right back,” Paige said, partially out the door already.

“Mhm,” Nika said to herself.

A few seconds later, Paige walked back in with Azzi. Both held slightly flushed cheeks and smiles, Azzi with a purple gift bag in her hand. She gave Nika a quick hug, “You look so good!”

Nika smiled, “Nah, look at you – I see that belly ring out, girl. Tryna impress anyone tonight?”

Azzi stayed flush and quickly shook her head saying, “Oh my god, no” at the same time as Paige’s “Chillllllll.”

Nika clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, putting away her makeup she brought over to help Paige get ready, “Well if I don’t see you talking to anyone tonight I’m gonna be disappointed.”

Azzi just laughed, settling herself at the edge of Paige’s bed. Paige gave Nika a quick dap and thanked her for helping her get ready.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nika replied as she left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar and eyes catching Paige join Azzi on the bed. She smiled to herself.

The pair now sat alone in Paige’s room, Azzi wringing her hands slightly at a curious nervousness she wasn’t used to around her best friend. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but Paige was starting to look…almost mature. Perhaps it was the makeup and the flat ironed blonde hair, but Azzi had never seen Paige’s cheekbones so defined, or noticed that her cheeks hollowed in a way that accentuated her sharp jaw line. Her lips looked full and glossy, and her eyes looked almost navy as she stared at her through long mascara-coated eyelashes.

Azzi blinked. She stood up and shoved the purple bag in Paige’s lap.

Paige looked back and forth between the bag and back up at Azzi standing in front of her knees, huffing a laugh at the abruptness. More seriously, she said quietly, “You didn’t have to get me anything, Az.”

“Sure,” Azzi motioned to the bag, “Open it.”

Paige began pulling the tissue paper out of the bag, a lopsided smile she didn’t realize she was wearing sat on her lips. Inside, sat a photo album, a few friendship bracelets, a chocolate chip cookie bucket from the Minnesota State Fair, and a new purple iPad case.

“Your case got scratched,” Azzi said, noticing Paige’s silence as she sifted through the items.

Paige opened the album wordlessly, her chest hammering. It was littered with photos from their summer together, some taken on their phones, some taken on a polaroid. Most were Paige and Azzi smiling with or at each other.

“I had them printed out,” Azzi needlessly explained, still looking to fill the silence that Paige had fallen under. “Those are all my favorites.”

Paige looked up at her then, her heart feeling so tender as she looked on and smiled at her friend. She felt so seen. She felt so loved.

“I love it, Az,” She smiled wrapping Azzi in a tight hug, rocking them back and forth, “Thank you so much.”

Paige’s head landed on Azzi’s chest, her arms wounding so tight Azzi had no choice but to step in between her knees. Azzi laughed, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and hugged her back, her arms finding themselves around Paige’s shoulders.

“Yay,” Azzi said quietly as they held each other.

Paige smiled goofily at her and pulled away, her hands lingering on Azzi’s waist before falling back to the items in her lap. She got up, gently placing the bag on her desk, making a mental note to set aside several hours tomorrow to eat chocolate chip cookies and stare at each photo in the album until she had them memorized.

“Alright,” Paige said, “Let’s party.”

___________________________________________

At Ted’s, it was packed.

Paige was being greeted by everyone, and surrounded by her teammates. As Dorka went to the bar to grab the group another round, Paige cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Yo, get Azzi another shot!”

Azzi, standing next to Paige with a toothy grin, looked objectively good. Great, even. This was something Paige’s tipsy brain could register. Her hair was down and looking voluminously curly, she was wearing a baby blue crop top that made her skin color pop, and her belly ring was twinkling every so often from the dull bar lights. Yeah, Paige thought, she looks good.

Paige found herself staying near the younger girl, something she chalked up to just feeling protective since Azzi was underage at the bar and new to the school still, and had only drunk a few times in her life. It definitely wasn’t because she just wanted to be close. Or because Azzi was smiling at her with doe eyes and had both dimples on display.

Paige was now being brought shots, her friends loudly cheering as she threw them each back. She grins at everyone, her mind starting to feel hazy from the alcohol. 

Azzi slides in closer next to her, her cheeks flushed from the packed bar and alcohol. She tugs Paige’s shoulder down so she can ask in her ear, “Are you having fun?” 

Paige pauses at the small second of contact of Azzi’s lips to the shell of her ear. She stares back at the younger girl, eyes half-lidded with a lazy smile, “Yeah, you?”

They smile stupidly at each other with their faces an inch apart, Azzi nodding. She turns back to the group to join the rowdy conversation, her fingertips grazing down Paige’s bicep and staying there. Paige continues staring down at her, lips slightly parted, a voice in her brain saying touch, touch, touch.

Without thinking, Paige’s fingertips lightly graze the exposed small of Azzi’s back. They stay there as both girls sip their drinks, listening to Aubrey tell a story to the group, laughing when the others do.

The voice in her head tells her more, more, more.

She lays her palm flat on Azzi’s skin, dragging her finger tips across the side of Azzi’s waist. When Azzi shifts slightly to be able to hear something Ice is telling her, her hand falls. 

Paige puts her hand in her front pocket, clenching and unclenching her fist. 

Azzi turns back to her now, laughing, “I can’t believe you did that.”

Paige smiled lazily, instinctually moving close, her eyes following Azzi’s straight nose and lifted lips, “Tell me what I did.”

Azzi leaned in as well, gripping Paige’s bicep. Paige unknowingly flexes.

“Ice told me last year on your birthday you had to turn down like 10 girls,” she said, still laughing, “That’s so stupid.”

Paige shrugged and stared at her with half-lidded eyes, her lips still upturned, “Ladies love buckets, what can I say.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Delusional,” she said, leaning into Paige’s ear, “You think you’re so cool, don’t you?”

Paige grinned, their noses almost brushing as Paige took her turn to say in Azzi’s ear, “Yeah, and you do too.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Azzi chided, her eyes dancing on Paige’s face.

Paige tsked. “Quit playing,” she said, her voice coming out lower than she meant, they’re faces inches apart.

“Yo, is Nika good?” the pair heard Aaliyah ask the group, effectively snapping them both out of their bubble. Nika, it turned out, was not good. Aubrey had found her throwing up in the bathroom, apparently having drunk so much she felt sick.

The sophomores plus Azzi decided wordlessly they would help their friend get home safely, calling it a night. They each took turns carrying the Croatian back to her apartment, ignoring as she mumbled, “I’m Eastern European for fuck’s sake, how did this happen.”

In the end, Paige and Azzi were the two who remained until 2 in the morning, helping Nika wretch and clean herself up. Azzi, cooing and holding Nika’s hair up while she rubbed her back. Paige, picking out her clothes for bed and getting her toothbrush ready for her.

“Thank you both,” Nika mumbled, her accent sounding thicker than normal as she eventually lifted her comforter up to her chin. Azzi set a cup of water down for her near the bed, Paige placing a trash can on the side just in case. “You’re so cute together”.

Paige and Azzi paused, silently agreeing to ignore the comment.

“G’night, Twin,” Paige said quietly as her and Azzi left her room, heading back to Paige’s apartment.

As they walked together on a quiet sidewalk, illuminated only by street lamps, Paige looked over at Azzi who had tired eyes. “You’re sleeping over,” Paige told the younger girl, “It’s late.”

Azzi simply nodded, letting Paige lead her to her apartment in comfortable silence, their forearms brushing every so often.

When they arrived, they immediately began getting ready for bed. Washing their faces together, Azzi putting toothpaste on Paige’s toothbrush, and then her own (the spare Paige kept for her just in case).

Azzi wordlessly grabbed her favorite oversized shirt and boxers of Paige’s to wear, both changing with their backs turned.

“Did you have a good birthday?” Azzi asked quietly when they were laid in bed. They faced each other, fingers ghosting the other without them realizing due to their tiredness.

“The best,” Paige said softly, smiling slightly. “Thanks for helping with Nika.”

“Of course,” Azzi mumbled with her eyes closed, “You were nice to help her like that on your birthday.”

“Making sure the people I love are good is more important than drinking at Ted’s,” Paige told her simply, eyes also closing.

Azzi hummed. She opened her eyes and stared at Paige for a second, taking her in. She looked so at peace it made something in Azzi’s heart ache in a way she couldn’t place.

"It's funny," She said quietly, shaking her head slightly “Even on a day that’s supposed to be dedicated to you, you can’t stop thinking of everyone else.”

Paige opened her eyes then, staring back. She felt her mouth open and close, but no words left her lips. 

She shifted so she lay with her eyes staring at the ceiling.

“I want so much, so badly,” she started, so quietly Azzi had to make sure she was hearing her right. A few seconds later, she continued.

"I want it so much I feel guilty. I feel guilty for wanting more when I already have so much. I want to be the best there ever was. The only way I know how to offset this guilt is by pouring into everyone else around me. It makes me feel good and appreciated and loved in a way I don’t know how to pour back into myself on my own.”

They lay silently for a moment, Paige feeling Azzi’s eyes on the side of her face. Several seconds pass, and Paige thinks Azzi won’t respond to her admission when suddenly she feels arms wrap around her waist. Azzi bends her head to fall into the crook of Paige’s shoulder, nose hitting her exposed collar bone. Paige doesn’t move apart from resting her cheek on top of Azzi’s head, closing her eyes and letting herself be held. Azzi sighs quietly. 

“You’re a good person, Paige,” Azzi says. “The best person I know. I love you a lot.” 

Her words are simple but somehow, she says exactly what Paige needed to hear. She doesn’t try to change how Paige feels, or anything about Paige as a person. All she does is validate her and appreciate her as she is. Paige’s heart feels so full from Azzi’s affirmation that she stays quiet and ignores the subtle prickly feeling of her eyes.

And for a single second, only one, she lets herself imagine that when Azzi said “I love you a lot”, she meant it in the way they aren’t supposed to mean it. She didn’t know why. 

Neither realized, but Azzi did mean it in the way Paige hoped. 

[elswhore]

hey gorg! congrats on the 2,000!! you deserve it. i was wondering if you could per chance do a angst to fluff with prompt 7? with ju, maybe someone was sending mixed signals and and they get in a lil argument but work things out.

(i’m so sorry this is long i wasn’t sure how to explain it🙃)

prompt 7 "tell me what you want" ── angst to fluff.

thank you so muchh!. sorry i dont get it.. but i tried hope i did wrote it right. (btw i loved writing this)

you paced the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, replaying the last few weeks in your mind, juju’s laugh, her teasing smirks, the way her hand lingered on your arm a little too long moments that felt like promises.

but then there were the days she’d pull back, her texts short and distant, her eyes avoiding yours when you tried to get closer, the mixed signals were driving you up the wall, and you were done, the front door clicked open, and juju stepped inside, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her gym bag slung over one arm.

she looked at you, her brows lifting slightly at the tension radiating off you. “hey,” she said, her voice casual, like she hadn’t noticed the storm brewing in your eyes. “what’s up?” you stopped pacing, turning to face her, your grip on your phone tightening.

“what’s up?” you echoed, your voice sharp with the frustration you’d been bottling for weeks. “juju, I’m so fucking tired of this, one day you’re all over me, flirting, acting like you want something real, and the next you’re cold, like i’m just some friend you barely care about, do you even know how confusing that is?”

juju’s expression faltered, her bag sliding off her shoulder to the floor as she straightened, her eyes locking onto yours. “what are you talking about?” she asked, but there was a defensive edge to her voice, like she was bracing for a fight. “don’t play dumb,” you snapped, stepping closer, your emotions spilling over.

“you know exactly what i mean, you’ll text me at midnight, saying shit that makes my heart race, then ghost me for two days, you’ll hug me like you never want to let go, then act like it’s nothing when i try to talk about us, i can’t keep doing this, juju. i’m not some game you can pick up and drop whenever you feel like it.”

your voice cracked on the last sentence, and you hated how vulnerable it made you sound, but you couldn’t stop now. “i like you, okay? i’ve liked you for so long, and i thought—i thought you felt something too, but if you don’t, just say it, stop stringing me along, because i can’t take it anymore.”

the room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging between you, juju’s face softened, the defensiveness melting away as she took in your trembling hands, the raw hurt in your eyes, she stepped forward, closing the distance, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

“don’t,” you said, your voice quieter now, but firm. “eon’t just hug me or say something cute to smooth this over, need to know where you stand.” juju stopped, her hands falling to her sides, for a moment, she looked lost, her usual confidence replaced by something softer, almost uncertain.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice low, genuine. “i didn’t mean to mess with your head, i just… i’m not good at this.” you frowned, crossing your arms, still guarded. “good at what? being honest? caring about someone?”

“no,” she said quickly, her eyes searching yours. “figuring out how to let myself want this, want you, without freaking out..i know i've been all over the place, and that’s on me, i get close, and then i pull back because… i don’t know, i’m scared of screwing it up..but i do care, i care so much it fucks me up sometimes.”

her words hit you hard, unraveling some of the anger but leaving the hurt behind, you swallowed, your throat tight. “then why can’t you just show it? why do i have to feel like i'm chasing you all the time?”juju’s shoulders sagged, and she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily.

“because i’m an idiot,” she admitted, a small, self deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “and because i’ve never felt like this before, not this much, i keep thinking if i hold back, i’ll protect myself or whatever, but all i’m doing is hurting you, nd i hate that.” ehe stepped closer again, and this time you didn’t pull away.

her hands hovered near your arms, hesitant, like she was waiting for permission. “tell me what you want,” she said softly, her voice raw, her eyes pleading. “i don’t want to lose you, i just need to know how to fix this.” your heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice, the way she was laying herself bare for the first time.

you took a shaky breath, your anger softening as you looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the sincerity in her eyes. “i want you to stop running,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. “i want you to be real with me, even if it’ messy, if you’re scared, say it, if you want me, show it, just… be here. with me.”

juju nodded, her eyes glistening slightly as she closed the gap, her hands finally settling gently on your arms. “i’m here,” she whispered, her thumbs brushing soft circles against your skin.

[scoupsakakitty]

I’ve been seeing engagement proposals all through my fyp, news feed, yt reels, even vlogs and I’ve been keeping this on my mind for a while, my request is: how would Seventeen members propose to their S/O? Like the location, would their families be present? Will it be a funny disaster? Or a romantic moment? I’m dying to know, please do it. . I am willing to wait, don't worry.

How SVT would propose

S.Coups

Cheol would make it deeply emotional and meaningful. He’s the type who values stability, love, and family more than anything. He plans a quiet rooftop dinner, filled with soft lights, a playlist of your favorite songs, and maybe even a few old photos of the two of you placed around. He holds your hands, his voice slightly shaking, and tells you how much he wants to be by your side for the rest of your life. You can tell he’s been rehearsing it in his head for days but in the moment, it’s all heart. After the proposal, he surprises you by having both families waiting nearby to celebrate together. He probably tears up before you do.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan’s proposal would be full of playful mischief but end with sincere emotion. He pretends to forget an important date maybe your anniversary or birthday just to keep you off track. He acts completely casual, even a little distracted. But by the end of the day, he takes you to a quiet spot, maybe a park or a place filled with shared memories, and suddenly pulls out the ring like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He says something like, “I could joke around forever, but I’m serious about this will you marry me?” It’s funny, confusing, and heart-melting all at once.

Joshua

Joshua goes for classic, timeless romance. He picks a beach at sunset, maybe somewhere in California close to his roots. It’s quiet just the sound of waves and the glow of fairy lights strung around a private little setup. He sits with you, plays a song on his guitar that he wrote just for you, and right as the last chord rings out, he kneels down. His words are calm, thoughtful, and poetic. He talks about love, faith, and choosing each other over and over again. Your families aren’t there right away but he makes sure they’re the first ones to know, probably through a sweet group video call or dinner afterward.

Jun

Jun’s proposal would be a little offbeat, but incredibly heartfelt. He plans something that feels like an inside joke between the two of you maybe a scavenger hunt through your favorite places, or a date that includes all your shared hobbies. He’s a little nervous, trying to play it cool, but you can tell he’s been thinking about this for a long time. When the moment comes, it’s quiet, personal, and soft. He says something unexpectedly poetic in a mix of Chinese and Korean, then slips the ring out with the shyest smile. It’s not grand or flashy but it’s perfectly, unforgettably Jun.

Hoshi

Hoshi’s proposal would be an adorable mess in the best way. He tries so hard to plan the perfect day maybe a flashmob, a dance-themed surprise, or a performance just for you but something inevitably goes a little wrong. He forgets the cue, gets overly excited, or starts crying halfway through his speech. But that’s what makes it perfect. He probably ends up blurting out “Will you marry me?!” earlier than he meant to, holding the ring upside down, while grinning with tears in his eyes. It’s chaotic, emotional, and 100% Soonyoung. You’ll both laugh and cry the entire time.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo keeps things incredibly simple and intimate. He chooses a quiet place a bookstore, a café, maybe even your shared living room on a rainy day. He doesn’t do anything flashy, but you’ll feel the weight of every word he says. He holds your hand gently, looks you right in the eyes, and says something like, “I want to spend all my quiet days and loud ones with you. Will you marry me?” There’s no audience, no performance just you, him, and a moment you’ll remember forever.

Woozi

Jihoon would stress about it for months. He’d want it to be perfect but not obvious, romantic but not cliché. In the end, he composes a song just for you one that says everything he can’t quite say aloud. He plays it in a studio or a private space, just the two of you, and as the final note rings out, he turns to you with a nervous smile and says, “I meant every word. Will you marry me?” His voice cracks a little, but his eyes are so full of love you’ll melt on the spot.

DK

Seokmin’s proposal would be full of sunshine and joy. He plans something with lots of laughter maybe a picnic in a field, or a goofy day at an amusement park. He tries to keep it casual at first, but when the moment comes, he suddenly turns serious in the softest way. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world and says, “You make every day brighter. Will you let me be the reason you smile forever?” He probably sings after the proposal, just because he’s overflowing with happiness.

Mingyu

Mingyu goes all out. Think fairy lights, fireworks (if he can get them), a chef-made dinner under the stars, the whole works. He wants everything to look like a movie set, because he wants you to feel like the star of one. He’s nervous, though you’ll notice him fumbling with the ring box, trying to keep cool while his heart is racing. When he finally kneels down, he says something like, “You’re the most beautiful part of my life. Let’s make every day beautiful together.” After the proposal, he hugs you so tight it’s like he never wants to let go.

The8

Minghao’s proposal would be artistic, intentional, and very him. He probably plans it during a trip abroad, maybe somewhere with quiet scenery or meaningful art Kyoto, Venice, or a peaceful mountain village. He leads you to a spot he picked just for this moment. He doesn’t say too much just looks into your eyes with a calm smile and tells you that being with you feels like peace. Then he brings out a ring he might’ve designed himself. It’s elegant, thoughtful, and unforgettable like something out of a dream.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan’s proposal is pure emotion. He tries to keep it cool, maybe even cracks a few jokes at first to cover up his nerves but the second he starts talking about how much you mean to him, his voice starts shaking. It might be at a quiet dinner or your favorite place from a past trip together. He pours his whole heart out probably tearing up and making you cry too. His words are warm, sincere, and filled with love: “You’re my best friend, my home, my everything. Marry me?” It’s deeply personal, and no one could love you louder than him.

Vernon

Vernon keeps it low-key, but meaningful. He plans something super personal like taking you to a place that means a lot to both of you, maybe where you had your first real heart-to-heart. He doesn’t overthink the words he just says exactly what he feels, probably something like, “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” He might have a song playing in the background that you both love, or something he made himself. There’s no pressure, just quiet love and a strong, steady promise.

Dino

Dino goes the thoughtful, young-romantic route. He choreographs a short dance for you something sweet and full of love, with little references to your story together. He pretends it’s just for fun, but at the end of the routine, he turns serious, takes your hands, and gets down on one knee. His voice is full of hope and pride when he says, “I want to grow up and grow old with you. Will you marry me?” It’s creative, full of heart, and totally unforgettable.

[c4tluver02]

golden line

wc: 2.4k

warnings: none! hurt comfort happy ending lets go!!

summary: Finally getting a moment to talk to you, Steve is determined to get things fixed between the two of you.

a/n: i hope u guys enjoyed this little series!! <33 thank u for all the love on it !!!!!!!

part 1, part 2, part 3

How can I repay the due? The way you know me, love me, pull me through. ♫

After everything with Venca Steve accepted that things just wouldn't be the same. He would no longer be mad at the new normal. His new life would consist of sleepless nights all alone, no time for hobbies, stitched into a routine that wouldn't fail him. Nothing changing meant nothing could go wrong. 

This was all set in stone until you came along, and now Steve can't help but rethink his whole system. Maybe, somehow, Steve wouldn't have to feel so exhausted by all the weight he has to carry. That someone would actually want to do that for him. But now Steve is stuck in a constant state of stress for how he was gonna tell you all of this, without messing it all up. 

All of this has kinda forced Steve to open up more, ask his friends what to do instead of always having all of the answers. Robin was able to get through to him that you needed time. And maybe if the date you went on did go horrible, like he'd hoped, he’d be ready to pick you back up. 

Which it did by the way. It was just the worst and if Steve wasn't so pretty you’d swear off men for a lifetime. To get yourself all done up and have some guy waste your time felt like a slap in the face. The whole date all you could think about was how Steve wouldn't say that, or Steve would have done this. Being plagued by him was starting to drive you mad, like the way he so easily wrote you off and humiliated you wasnt enough for you to get over him completely. 

In hopes to at least start ‘mission get over Steve’ you decide to go to the store, ready to divulge in a whole carton of ice cream and cry out how sad you are of the way things ended. Whatever stage of grief involved you feeling sorry for yourself was what you were experiencing. Your red eyes in the grocery store matching a baggy outfit to show the world how broken you were feeling. Rejected, bad date, rock bottom. Next week you’ll bounce back but for right now you walk towards the ice scream section. That is until you hear a loud ‘ouch!’ come from an aisle that you were walking towards. 

Now you were really starting to feel crazy because if your delusions have truly melted your brain you would almost guess that it was Steve's voice. And when you hear Robin lecture him you feel your heart drop. 

“Do you always have zero class?” Robin scolds.

“I just tripped! I'm heartbroken, deal with me would you?” He pleads. And if a gun were to Rob's head, she would reply with a ‘oh I know’. Because to be quite frank, it's all she's heard about. 

He had asked her about the idea to go see you but Robin reminded him that maybe that wouldn't fix all his problems. That he could actually make things worse. 

Quick to get as far away from them you decide to go through the next aisle but it is humorous how bad of an idea that was. You try to turn as you see their cart come through before they do but you don’t make it in time. 

“I know but it-” The sentence stops before it really even starts. Both of you freeze, caught. 

Robin’s heart breaks, despite Steve saying he's sad, you actually look it. Eyes slightly swollen, your hair in a braid that's slightly falling apart, and an outfit that shows that you haven't left the house in a few days. 

“Are you okay?” Steve is quick to ask, walking towards you as you stand still in your spot. 

“Yeah, I just-I needed some reinforcements.” You say with a dry laugh, trying to not come off as embarrassed as you feel. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I was gonna actually stop by your house but I dunno- I mean I know how weird that sounds, but I couldn't get a hold of you and I wanted to make sure you were ok.” Somehow Steve got it all out with one breath. His hands are matching his words telling a story themselves. 

“You know where I live?” You are trying to ignore how he wanted to check up on you. 

“Well no but I was gonna look in the system.” He says scratching the nape of his neck, this isn't really coming out as romantic as it would have felt had he done it. 

“Oh.” You nod but you really don't know what to say, too embarrassed for the second time around Steve no wonder he doesn't want you. 

Robin walks up to meet you two in the middle. “We were gonna have a movie night if you wanted to join?” 

You let out a small smile at her invite, always okay with being the third wheel. And if we’re being real you could really use a win right now. It may not be a date night with Steve but hanging around two people who you know will make you feel good sounded nice. 

“Okay sure, yeah. If that's okay with you?” You ask looking back at Steve.

His round eyes go wide, not expecting you to say yes. “Sure, yes. Yeah that would be nice.” He doesn't even care that he's giving away his nonchalant facade with the big grin on his face. Simply happy with how this is going so far. 

As you scan all the snacks you three got for the movie night Steve toys around with asking how your date went but Robin beats him to it. 

“So how was your date with pool guy?” She pulls out her wallet and Steve hands you his card, already a step ahead of her with this at least. 

“It was ok, we weren’t a match but I got a free dinner.” You say with a shrug putting the last item in the bag. Admitting that it was a fail isn't an option right now, already letting them see you in this state was punishment enough. 

Steve takes the bags and you start walking out to the car. 

“I can meet you guys there?” You ask. A second to decompress how awkward this all is would be nice. 

“Okay see you there!” Robin says as she closes the door to Steve's car. You know they are talking about everything that just happened but you are sitting comfortably in silence. 

–

It only takes you about 5 minutes to get to Steve’s, his house being pretty close to the grocery store. 5 minutes to gather your thoughts about how this night might play out. Trying to think about every outcome possible to prepare but the short ride doesn't give you much time to think. 

“Rob open the door?” You hear Steve ask as you get out of your own car. 

“You ever heard of a please? Maybe a thank you?” Robin responds, even though she does open the door for him. 

You walk in only a few steps behind him and let out a soft thank you to her. 

“See at least she has manners, why am I not best friends with her?” You smile at her as she closes the door, you’ve missed this.

“So what movies did you guys get?” You ask sitting on the couch. 

“We got ‘The Exorcist’, ‘Jaws’, and E.T.”. Steve answers as he's placing all the treats you got on the table. 

“Pass, pass, and okay I could do E.T.” You smile digging into the snacks you got. 

Steve laughs and rolls his eyes at your opinionated response. “You aren't up for Jaws?” He asks while sitting next to you.

His couch isn't small but it isn't huge. The warmth of his thigh could be felt by your own, if he leans over at all he's in your personal space. 

“I think I should be asking you why you want to watch a movie about a shark that kills people.” You joke back. You're both acting like nothings wrong. It’s really not the time to get into a whole deep argument and for now that's okay with you both. 

“It’s a good movie, you should watch it.” He gives your knee a nudge and asks Robin to turn off the lights. It’s later in the evening and the sun is almost completely done setting which you thank in hopes that he can't see how flustered his small touch made you.

As the movie plays the three of you sit there making small comments in between scenes and eat your food. When the last 30 minutes comes you only hear the loud snores coming from Robin. Deciding to call it a night, Steve turns the TV off. It’s now completely dark and suddenly the fact that this has been the first time you both have been, basically, alone since the fight hits you all at once. 

“I should-”

“Can we talk?”

You both say at the same time. Steve is the one asking to talk and you nod thinking he's right. The smart adult thing to do is to talk. 

He puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you out to his backyard. The weather at night is perfect and the silence plus the small wave of the wind is relaxing. You sit on one of his long white chairs and he does the same with the other. 

“I’ve really missed you, y’know?” Steve starts. You almost wanna let out a sigh at how annoyingly mature he’s being about all of this. So open to say what's on his mind. 

“Me too.” You decide to copy. 

“I want you to know I didn't mean what I said.” 

Your eyes immediately shoot towards him. Trying to find out what game he's playing, what his angle is. 

“I am not, not, looking for something right now.” He wishes he could explain his feelings in a better way. “I know I said I wasn't and I thought I wasn't but then you came around and you changed everything for me.” 

This small silent treatment you’re giving is sorta killing him. The need to explain as much as he can to get on your good side again is all that's on his mind. 

“But then you left and you weren't coming around and the one time you do you're going on a date.” Steve lets out a huff, the anger coming back all too easily. 

“What did you think I was coming around for Steve? I liked you. I really thought we were on the same page. I mean the inside jokes and spending the whole day together.” Your usage of “liked” makes Steve wince. It hits him hard and every word after it is like salt on the wound. 

“I just, I didn't think I had anything to give anyone. All I know how to do is keep everything in all of the time so no one else falters.” Steve lets out a sigh, his vision blurring. “What would anyone want anything to do with someone like that?” 

You wish you were sitting next to him to give him a hug. To lend him a hand to squeeze, or maybe a shoulder to lay his head. 

“Steve, you know any of these people in your life would stop everything if they knew you were feeling like this.” 

“But then who's taking care of them? Someone has to.”  Poor Steve you think. A kid who was never cared for, only focuses on caring for others. 

This time you actually get up and move toward him. He scootches over and the weight of you both at the end of the plastic chair makes it lift at the top. Almost falling off Steve puts his weight to the top and you stay on. A laugh escapes out of you and soon enough he's coping. 

Silence falls between you for a few seconds. “I'm sorry you've been feeling this way.” It’s simple but it’s true. Steve is the last person who deserves to feel like this. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel this way.” He’s talking about a whole different feeling but nonetheless an awful one. 

You reach your arms to go around his shoulders and he lets his chin fall on your shoulder. His arms wrap around you in return and for the first time in weeks you feel at peace. 

“Would you stay the night? I have a spare room– Normally Rob sleeps in it but I'm sure she wouldn't mind the couch.” He asks lifting himself from the warmth of your shoulder. 

You and Steve still have a long way to go, more to get through but you’re ready to do it with him. Ready to share whatever baggage he might bring. 

“Yeah I can stay.” Giving him a warm smile, it really does numbers for his heart. 

His shoulders fall as he breathes out a breath of relief. Your forehead falls gently against his own and he closes his eyes. It allows you to really look at him, like how long his lashes are, and how pretty his lips purse out. 

“Cmon, let's go to bed.” You stand and lay your hand out for him to take. 

All of these emotions are hitting him all at once, exhaustion taking over as he does as you say intertwining his fingers with yours. 

You lay a blanket on Robin who is now fully stretched out on the couch and Steve locks the sliding glass door. You both walk up the stairs in silence but once you reach the top you both pause. 

“Can I sleep with you?” You ask. He offered you the spare room but right now you really don't want to be away from him. 

Steve is secretly thankful you did. He nods and you both climb into his bed. You guess the pros of being a rich kid is having a big bed, you both fit nicely. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck. He smells like pine and chlorine from being outside this whole time. But it’s his heartbeat that easily puts you to sleep. The consistent rhythm being a perfect reminder of how thankful you are to have Steve. And the feeling of his hand going up and down due to your soft breathing is what puts him to sleep. Unsure of what tomorrow will bring but you'll deal with it together.

[mister0ctopus]

We Are All Sinners 04

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Summary:  You left Jungkook and this town behind, but every visit pulls you back into his arms, chasing a high you can never leave behind.

Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! MDNI!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, angst, toxic relationships, unresolved feelings, infidelity, unprotected sex (please be safe), alcohol

Word Count: 3.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

THEN

Jungkook had been looking for you since he got off the stage.

He saw you in the crowd toward the end of the set, but you’d disappeared before the final song.

It had been awhile since you showed up to one of their gigs, thanks to that part-time job at the university library keeping you busy.

You’d told him you needed the extra money.

Allowance wasn’t cutting it anymore, not with school expenses piling up the way they were.

Jungkook offered to cover your dorm fees with his gig money, but of course, you declined. How could you accept it, when you hadn’t even let your own father help?

He even tried to pay it himself behind your back– only for you to show up at his dorm, furious, at six in the morning.

“I don’t need your hard-earned money, Jeon Jungkook. Don’t ever do that again.”

You using his full name was all the indication he needed. It was serious.

That day, Jungkook learned something about you: Your pride came above everything. Sometimes it felt like it was the only thing in the world you truly had to hold on to.

He pushed through the sea of semi-drunk bodies, sweaty and barely blinking.

He found you in the corner alone, lost in your own world, swaying under the flicker of neon lights.

Cheeks flushed, lips parted, too fucking pretty in his old oversized tee that is swallowing you whole and that tiny skirt that barely covered anything.

Some guy was already inching closer, trying his luck. 

He was trying to say something, but you weren’t even listening, still swaying. It made Jungkook's blood boil.

He barely heard Rosie, a girl from school, and her friends calling after him.

He crossed the room in a few strides, throwing an arm around you, pulling you tight against his chest, staring down the guy until he backed off without a fight.

"You’re drunk, love," Jungkook murmured into your hair, grinning against the scent of you, "Let’s get you home, yeah?"

You just giggled, nose burying deeper into his neck, clinging onto him like you always do.

You smelled like summer and vanilla ice cream, his favorite fucking thing.

"Not d-drunk," you slurred against his skin, hiccupping through a messy laugh.

"It was just punch... like ju-juice!" you giggled.

"Yeah? Okay, love," Jungkook laughed under his breath, tugging you closer until you were practically plastered to him.

"Juice doesn’t make you stutter like that."

"Noooo," you shook your head, before licking a hot, wet stripe up his throat, grinning when you felt him shiver under your mouth. 

"Y-your dick does."

He choked on a laugh, squeezing your waist.

"Okay, princess. God, you're so fucking cute. And very, very drunk. Come on, let’s get you home. So sorry for making you wait, we had to talk about our next gig."

But you weren’t listening, were you?

You were just staring at him, like he’d discovered penicillin or something, like he was the only thing in your universe that mattered.

Fuck.

You pawed at him all the way back to your dorm, giggling, slipping your hands under his jacket, whispering filthy things against his throat.

Jungkook’s jaw was locked tight the whole walk, fists clenched like he was holding himself together by threads. 

By the time he got you inside, he was hard as fuck— aching, leaking, seconds from losing whatever scraps of patience he had left. 

"You're a mess," he muttered, peeling the beer-soaked shirt from your skin as soon as you stumbled into your room. "C’mere, let's clean you first."

He sat you down on your bed, pink sheets, cute Hello Kitty pillows and you just looked so cute and hot, and so, so drunk.

He peeled off the rest of your clothes, muttering under his breath about how you’d yell at him if he dared let you sleep dirty.

You hated going to bed without washing up and he could already hear the scolding you’d give him in the morning if he didn’t take care of it now.

"Stop moving, baby," he whispered, grinning as you wriggled, "I'm trying to clean your face..."

You were impossible, fighting his wrist weakly as he tried to wipe you clean, pouting, murmuring something…

"What was that?" he leaned down.

"You're hard," you said, matter-of-fact, staring blatantly at the outline straining against his jeans.

Jungkook let out a shaky laugh, half shifting on his feet, half-mortified, half-proud.

"Course I am," he grinned. "I’m with you. I’m always fucking hard. Even when I’m not with you, just thinking about you gets me hard."

Then, like the menace you were, you reached for his belt, tugging him closer with both hands, smiling up at him.

Your fingers fumbled at the buckle, then the button of his jeans, messy and desperate.

"YN, baby, what are you—" 

"Just the tip, baby," you slurred, gulping like you were about to swallow him whole. "Wanna taste you so bad. Please. Just a little."

Jungkook groaned, hands trembling where they hovered above your head,  like he didn’t know whether to stop you or cry.

"Baby, you're drunk," he panted, "Tomorrow, when you're sober, I promise I'll—"

But you weren’t listening, already mouthing at his cock through his boxers, tongue hot and messy, eyes wide with need.

His breath hitched when you pulled him free with clumsy hands, pressing the leaking, swollen tip to your tongue.

"Fuck…" he hissed, one hand flying to grip the dresser behind him, grinding his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

"Just the tip, okay? Just the fuckin’ tip—ahhhh—"

Lie.

Both of you were liars.

Because you sank down, took him all the way to the fucking base— choking immediately, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, your already ruined mascara streaking down your cheeks in messy black trails.

You gagged, loud and wet, and Jungkook almost cried at the sight, at the sound.

One hand flew to your hair, yanking tight, the other sliding to the base of your jaw, holding you steady, as he started fucking your mouth slow but deep— pushing deeper and deeper like he needed to feel the base of your throat kiss the tip of his cock.

"God, you're gonna be the death of me," he gasped, as you gagged again around him.

He fucked you like that, until you adjusted to the stretch.

He moved his hand from the base of your jaw to your throat, pressing down just to feel the thick bulge of his cock there— feeling the way you swallowed around him, choked for him, so willing, so desperate, his.

"So fucking good for me. My good girl. So fucking perfect."

You whimpered around him and it tore a helpless moan straight out of Jungkook’s chest.

He thrust deeper, rougher, the wet squelch of spit and gasps filling the room.

This sight of you— looking up at him, mouth stretched wide, tears streaking your cheeks, taking every inch of him…

He felt himself getting close, and he yanked out with a wet, obscene pop that left both of you whimpering at the loss.

Without thinking, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to bed like you were something fragile.

"Jungkook... need you," you whispered, so soft it almost hurt to hear. "Need you inside me, please."

He almost fucking sobbed, because how could you be so beautiful and perfect, and so needy for him?

How could you look at him like he was something worth begging for?

"Yes, ma’am. Whatever you want..." he croaked, dragging his cock through your soaked folds, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked on you like he’d die if he ever looked away.

He pushed in slowly, stretching you open, your thighs trembling around his waist, breath stuttering into his open mouth, fingers clawing at his back.

"Oh my god, you feel so good," he panted into your ear. "Always so tight and ready for me. Your mouth, your pussy, every hole, everything, all mine."

You sobbed his name when he finally bottomed out, and he started moving slowly while kissing you between every shaky breath, drying your tears with his lips, while his hands roamed everywhere— your tits, your face, your waist, like he couldn’t decide what part of you he needed to worship first.

You moan his name like it was the only word you know.

And how could he ever explain the sound of you?

Sweet like cotton candy and honey, like heaven, like his favorite melody. He wanted to hear it forever. He would do anything to keep hearing it from you.

"I'm such a lucky guy, fuck, I love you so much," he whispered, before slamming into you harder and rougher.

And you said the words back, until you couldn't speak.

Until your moans broke into wordless whimpers.

Until his kisses turned sloppy between thrusts.

Until his back became a canvas of red scratches and your nails were the artist.

Until your walls clenched around him, choking him, squeezing him, milking him.

Until your entire body trembled from coming, until your eyes rolled back, until everything dissolved and there was nothing but him. 

Until you felt him pulse deep inside you, warm and heavy.

His. 

You were his. 

Until the end.

NOW

It’s funny how something so small could hurt so much.

Just a tiny scratch on your knee when you slammed into your car door trying to leave the scene, but god, it burned like a bitch.

You didn’t even notice it at first.

Not when you shut the door too hard.

Not when you drove off, fists clenched around the wheel.

Not even when Jungkook kept shouting your name, over and over.

Not when Jimin tried to calm him down.

You didn’t see Rosie’s face, either—how she froze, watching Jungkook drop everything, becoming completely oblivious to everyone but you.

You barely even remembered how you got home.

The second you parked in the driveway, you bolted toward your mom’s house, tearing through her old cabinets.

First aid kit—where the hell was it?

You swung open the one in the kitchen, the old wooden door reminding you that you still had a lot to do in this house.

Then you heard it.

The sound of a truck pulling up right in front of your gate.

You didn’t even need to look out the window.

The heavy stomp of boots across the porch said it all.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

You rolled your eyes, still rummaging through the cabinet.

“Why did you even come in here?” you muttered, not bothering to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend? She looked pretty upset.”

“What she did was wrong. Completely unacceptable.”

You scoffed.

“Well, she wasn’t wrong.” Your voice went flat. “Everything she said was right.”

You focused on checking the expiration dates on the dusty cleaning meds.

“Are you hurt? What are you even—” He cut himself off and marched straight toward you.

Before you could react, he snatched the Betadine bottle from your hand.

“Let me see.” His voice was low. Stern.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” you muttered, brushing him off.

“YN. Let me see.” 

He repeated it, firmer this time, his gaze locked on yours like there was no room to argue.

You were stubborn, that’s for sure.

But Jungkook? Jungkook was worse. Especially when he was focused on something.

A trait of his that used to be endearing.

Now? It was so fucking annoying.

Still, you popped your knee up, revealing the tiny red scratch.

Without a word, he lifted you and placed you on the kitchen counter like you weighed nothing.

He unscrewed the Betadine bottle and dropped a few dabs of the liquid onto the scrape. His eyes never left your face, watching carefully, waiting for you to flinch.

It stung like hell.

But you didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

You just stared back—blank, hollow, unreadable.

You didn’t know what to feel right now.

Upset? Guilty?

Angry? Sad?

You knew better than anyone—so many things can be felt at once.

He placed the band-aid over the wound slowly, gently. Then his thumb traced the edge of it—not quite touching your skin, but close enough that you felt the heat of him.

“I’m so sorry, YN. Okay? Very, very sorry. I didn't know she was going to do that."

 His voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

Then he dropped his head until it was almost resting on your shoulder.

You didn’t say anything.

You just… sat there. Letting him exist near you.

It was the first time you’d seen him this close in a long while.

His arms caged you in on either side—not touching you—but the heat of him bled into your skin.

Then you noticed the changes.

His tattoos had been retouched. Some covered.

The ink was brighter now. Cleaner. Beautiful.

You wondered if your birth flower was one of the things he covered.

His hair was shorter on the sides, longer on top, a few strands brushing his forehead.

Just enough for his fingers to rake through it.

Just enough for you to pull—

No.

No.

You exhaled slowly.

“Thanks for checking on me,” you said quietly. “But you should probably go home now. I don’t need another rumor about me floating around. Not when my mom just—”

“YN…”

“Please. We need to stop seeing each other like this. Look what happened with Rosie—”

“Rosie and I were done. We’ve been done. A few weeks ago.”

You blinked. “Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“Wow… I’m sorry?”

He let out a small, humorless snicker.

“I’m serious,” you continued, voice tight. “You need to leave. I don’t care about people talking… I just don’t want Kole to hear about this. He’s been… so good to me.” 

But he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Jungkook, are you even paying attention?”

 He wasn’t.

His eyes were scanning the room, looking around.

“Jungkook, are you listening to m—”

“Did you paint the kitchen white?” he cut you off. “It used to be light yellow, right? And that couch, it was blue before. When did that change to gray?”

You stared at him. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“I liked the old interior,” he said absently, still glancing around. “The paint looks fresh, too. Everything feels so... soulless.”

“Ouch.” You snorted despite yourself.

“Oh, so you did change it. I mean, who else would? Only someone devoid of soul could do this... abomination.”

“Jungkook,” you warned, voice sharp now.

“I know your mom didn’t like me,” he muttered, “but at least she had life in her… and she understood color.”

“Jungkook.”

You were trying to cut him off.

Trying to pull him back to the part where you were making him leave.

Because after what Rosie pulled, this small town is going to talk.

Not that there weren’t already whispers—rumors of you and him.

Especially now.

With his truck parked out front.

With just the two of you in this house.

With him standing too close between your legs, your knees grazing his waist.

With his arms braced on either side of your hips. The scent of his aftershave making your head spin.

With your body leaning into his, and his doing the same without even realizing.

It’s funny how something so small could hurt so much.

In this case, it was this tiny, almost-nothing space between you and him.

“Jungkook, you need to listen to me... I’m—”

“You’re getting married. It’s done. You’re not changing your mind,” he said, voice low, face too close. “I know.”

You could feel his breath ghosting against your neck, closer and closer.

“You’ve said that many times.”

Then his lips grazed your collarbone—so light it made your skin tingle, made every hair on your body rise.

“But your body’s saying otherwise,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the spot he touched, making you sigh, caught between wanting more and willing your body to stop responding.

“You have the most beautiful neck… didn’t you know that?” he whispered, before sucking gently at the slope of it.

You didn’t even have time to suppress the moan that slipped from your lips.

“So soft. So smooth. So inviting to be...marked.” And then he did, sucking harder, leaving a dark bloom on your skin.

You arched into him, one hand sliding to the back of his neck, the other weaving through his hair.

“Interesting,” he muttered, lips still against your skin. “Your mouth says all these things, and yet here you are… offering me your body like this.”

He placed both hands on your waist, squeezing lightly.

“Mine,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder just enough to make you gasp, just enough to make your neck angle toward him.

You sighed—at the sting, at the tingling heat, at the maddening pleasure his lips drew from you.

At some point, his hands had moved from your waist to the buttons of your blouse, undoing them without ever pulling away from your skin.

Your pink lace bra was exposed in seconds.

And Jungkook didn’t hesitate.

He dipped down and latched onto the swell of your breast, sucking the skin there, his tongue swirling as his fingers reached behind with practiced ease, unhooking the bra.

Once your breasts were fully exposed, he pulled back.

Just for a moment.

To look.

“God... so beautiful,” he groaned, voice wrecked.

And then he was back on you, mouth wrapping around your nipple, suckling hungrily while his hand massaged the other with steady, possessive care.

Sounds escaped both of you—moans, gasps, your name on his tongue and his on your breath.

You move your hips against him instinctively, your thighs tightening around his waist.

And you felt it—his hardness pressing against the ache between your legs.

You want to beg—like you always do—but—

“What…?”

He pulled away.

“You tell me we’re over,” his voice is low, bitter, “and then you show up like this. Like you're mine. You fuck me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

His chest heaves, jaw clenched so hard it looks like it hurts.

"And once it’s done—whatever this is—you act like I’m the easiest fucking thing in the world to throw away. Over and over again."

“Jungkook—”

His name barely makes it out.

“Tell me right now,” he says, quietly. “Tell me you don’t love me. I’ll walk away. I’ll let you go, marry whoever the fuck you want. There’s a lot I don’t understand, YN—so many things that don’t make sense to me anymore… but none of it matters. Just—” His voice cracks, his eyes locked on yours. “Just look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me anymore. Say it.”

Your mouth opens.

But nothing comes out.

The words—god, the words—are stuck in your throat like broken glass.

It hurts.

And before you can say anything—

Your phone rings.

Kole.

You let it ring. 

Still staring at Jungkook.

He’s looking back at you. More intently than ever. And you sit there—half naked—feeling exposed and cold.

You quickly pull your blouse over yourself.

“You gonna answer that?” he scoffs, voice sharp and bitter.

You do.

“Kole?” Your voice is shaky. Hesitant.

“Darling! I’m sorry, I just landed from the Paris convention, and I’ve completely lost track of the time zones. I have no idea what time it is over there. Where are you, honey?”

His voice crackles warmly through the speaker. So bright. Too bright.

“It’s okay. I’m home,” you answer softly, trying to steady your voice.

You feel Jungkook’s head fall, and he takes a step back.

And another.

“The wedding coordinator’s been blowing up my inbox about the schedule changes,” Kole says, still so sweet. So casual. “Didn’t you tell them about your mom?”

You press a hand to your forehead.

“I forgot,” you mutter. “I’ll tell them now so they can make the adjustments.”

Jungkook is already halfway across the kitchen.

Already walking away.

And you're sitting on the kitchen counter, half-naked.

Talking to your fiancé about your wedding.

taglist: @investedreader

a/n: lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :)

-🐙

[starshideurfics]

Make a Wish

a follow up to these breeding kink ficlets

steddie, mpreg, wish pussy, wish baby, mdni🔞

Steve knows it’s stupid, that birthday wishes don’t come true. Not when he wished for a puppy on his 8th birthday so he would always have someone to hug, not when he wished for his dad to make it to one basketball game his freshman year, and definitely not now with this impossible wish.

But Robin said he should wish for what he really wants, that all the near-death experiences mean the universe owes them, like karmically. And Dustin made him a cake, counted out the candles, promised they weren’t going to reignite and ruin his wish.

His life is a mess, so different from where he thought he’s be, but he’s happier, too. There’s just one thing that would make him even happier. One insane, impossible, incredible thing that his newly 19-year-old heart wants more than anything.

Steve stares down the candles, flickering yellow flames and drips of pastel blue wax. He takes a deep breath, filling his swimmer’s lung capacity until his chest aches, and blows. He makes sure he gets every single candle as he thinks:

I wish I could have Eddie Munson’s baby.

Watching the smoke rise from the wicks, Steve smiles as Robin says, “I hope it comes true.”

“Yeah!” Dustin agrees, already picking the candles from the cake, before completely changing gears. “You’re still able to pick me up after Hellfire tomorrow?”

“What else would I be doing?” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes. Of course Dustin idolizes Eddie, is friends with Eddie, and being Dustin’s ride has put him more in Eddie Munson’s orbit than he ever was at Hawkins High. Steve has a whole routine now: work his dayshift at Family Video, take his fifteen during the last 30 minutes in the staff bathroom, jerk off to fantasies of Eddie eating him out, then drive to pick up Dustin all loose-limbed, waiting for his chance to catch Eddie’s eye.

He never does anything more than nod, a tiny gesture of thanks for looking out for the boy who has become his brother, and Eddie will nod back, that shared understanding. One time Dustin even said he should talk to him, that they were both so cool and should be friends. Steve brushed him off, too afraid of it backfiring… Of Eddie deciding Steve was a normie loser and telling him to fuck off.

It’s easier to dream of what he wants, to have his little fantasies. That’s all the wish really was anyway.

🎂🎂🎂

That night, Steve has one of his usual pregnancy dreams, the kind where he’s just got a bit of a bump and Eddie makes love to him with a hand cradling his belly, holding their baby. He wakes up sticky, underwear full of cum, still half-hard with an ache at his taint. Steve wishes he had time to finger himself, to relieve a bit of his need to be full, but he can’t.

Instead, he showers and dresses, tosses his work vest in the passenger seat, and drives in for his lonely, dull dayshift. It isn’t a deal day, so he’ll be surprised if anyone comes in before noon.

So, he obviously startles when the bell over the door jingles at 10:30.

Then his heart just about stops as Eddie Munson swaggers in and says, “Hey, Harrington,” like it isn’t the first time he’s ever directly spoken to Steve.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Steve says, losing control of his mouth.

Eddie tilts his head to the side, like a confused puppy, even though his eyes say he’s very sure of himself. “I’m skipping Trig, can ya blame me?”

“No,” Steve says with a nod of understanding. “But why are you here? I can think of about a hundred better places to be while cutting cl-”

“I’m here for you, Steve.”

“What? Why?”

Eddie shrugs, lazy smile on his lips. “Henderson said it was your birthday-”

“Yesterday.”

“And I figure you deserve a little something special to celebrate,” he says, pulling a zip top bag from his pocket to show off the pair pre-rolls inside and waving it in front of Steve’s face.

“Can’t, man. Not while I’m at work. Keith will just… Know.”

“Keith needs to get over himself.” Eddie returns the baggie of joints to his pocket, and leans across the counter. “But I getcha. You could swing by my place for them after you drop Dustin at home. Maybe hang out a bit.” He grins up at Steve, a glint in his eye that feels like flirting.

Steve swallows, feels that tightness in his balls, clenches his asshole. Their faces are so close together; it would be so easy to lean in and press their mouths together. To finally taste the plush lips that live 24/7 in his brain.

He doesn’t. But he nods and says, “Okay. Yeah, tonight.”

“See you then, hot stuff.” Eddie pushes himself back to standing and leaves with a salute.

Steve watches him through the windows, until Eddie climbs into his van and drives away. Then he switches the sign to closed and takes his 15, needing to jerk off right that minute.

🎂🎂🎂

Steve can’t believe he’s knocking on Eddie’s door all these hours later.

He’d floated through the rest of the day in a daze, Robin throwing multiple crumpled up receipts at his head once her shift started, as Steve was spending more time in his daydreams than in the real world. Driving was enough of a thing to focus on to keep him present, and then the anticipation as he parked.

He’s of half a mind to turn around, even after rapping his knuckles against the door, because what even is this? Steve’s been pining for YEARS and he makes a stupid wish on his birthday candles and suddenly the object of all his secret desires wants to hang? It makes no sense.

But if this is the thing that gets him closer to Eddie, he has to take it.

And he’s still pretty sure Eddie was flirting with him this morning…

“Hey, come on in,” Eddie says, a little breathless as he opens the door. He’s got a different shirt on now than he had when Steve saw him in the parking lot twenty minutes ago, like he needed to freshen up for him. Eddie touches Steve’s shoulder, guides him inside, and Steve is pretty sure every one of his nerve endings is on high alert. He wants so badly to lean into the touch, and after a second’s hesitation, he does.

Eddie takes that as permission to squeeze before releasing Steve and sending him to sit on the couch. “Make yourself at home.” The joints are already waiting on the little coffee table.

“Thanks,” Steve says with his most charming smile, as he plucks up one of the joints and places it between his lips. He’s about to dig his own lighter from his pocket when Eddie takes a handful of steps to cross the room, offering a light. “Thanks,” Steve says again, softer this time as he leans forward and waits for the tip to catch.

He leans back to take a drag, dares to glance up as he exhales the smoke from his lungs. Eddie’s mouth is hanging open as he stares down at Steve. “What?” Steve asks, holding to joint out to him. “Something on my face?”

Eddie shakes his head emphatically and takes the joint, inhaling deeply, talking through his exhale, a grumbled, “I was gonna be cool,” only to choke on the smoke. Decidedly uncool of him.

Not that Steve cares in the slightest. “I’m not worth being cool for,” he murmurs.

“Don’t say that.” Eddie rubs at his watering eyes. “Henderson basically worships the ground you walk on, you always make time for him and Sinclair, and Buckley is-” He cuts himself short, like he has more to say—more he knows—but he knows he shouldn’t. “I’m just saying, you’re a good dude, and you’re so-”

“What?” Steve stands, taking the joint back and leaning into Eddie’s space, hoping beyond hope that he’s reading the situation right.

“Beautiful,” Eddie breathes, eyes darting between Steve’s eyes and his lips before squeezing them shut, like he’s preparing for a punch.

Lifting a hand, Steve cups Eddie’s cheek, feels the stubble beneath his palm, and closes his eyes as he brings their mouths together.

The kiss is slow to start, but soon enough Eddie is kissing him back with abandon. Both his hands cradle Steve’s face, guiding him to sit, the joint carefully abandoned in an ashtray. Once Eddie has joined him on the couch, Steve takes charge again, climbing into his lap and grinding down against him.

They’re both hard, Eddie moaning into Steve’s mouth, a whining sound, pleading without words. Eddie is the one to break first, taking huge, gasping breaths as he stares up at Steve in awe. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Steve whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What else do you want, Steve?”

“Just you,” he says, leaning down for another greedy kiss and rutting their clothed dicks together. “God, Eddie, want you to fuck me.”

“I’m dreaming. This can’t be real. You can’t be real.” Eddie traces a thumb over Steve’s cheek and down to his lips.

“I’m real, and I really want you.” Steve catches Eddie’s hand, and brings it down to press against his crotch. “I’m hard for you. Only for you.”

“Steve…” He sounds unsure, but Eddie’s fingers are on Steve’s fly, popping the button, pulling down the zipper.

“Touch me, Eddie.”

“Steve…” This time he says his name like a prayer, his fingers slipping inside Steve’s jeans, under the waistband of his underwear. His knuckles brush against Steve’s dick and they both shiver. “Something about you speaks to my- to my soul. Something in the back of my mind.” He swallows hard, and Steve guides his hand to grip his shaft.

Neither of them needs much to climax now, but it isn’t what Steve wants. “Take me to bed, Eddie,” he murmurs. “Strip me down and fill me up. I want you to fuck me, make me feel you everywhere.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be asked again. Together, they fumble and stumble, awkward as they rush down the hall to Eddie’s room. They continue to rush, helping each other from their clothes, two young men panting for air as hungry eyes rove over naked bodies. Steve plops down on the bed, putting himself eye to eye with Eddie’s leaking cock.

He looks up, asking for permission with a glance, and when Eddie gives it, he delicately kisses the head and takes it into his mouth. Just the warmth of his mouth, the wetness, is enough to make Eddie jerk forward, but Steve is careful and moves with him, hand around the shaft. “Too much?” he asks when he pulls off.

“If you’re serious about me fucking you,” Eddie says, his dark eyes nearly black with wanting.

Steve is quick to nod, knows it will be easier on his stomach so Eddie has better access, and he turns, leaning heavily onto the mattress, feet on the floor.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Beautiful like this, too.” Then he laughs when Steve wiggles his ass as seductively as he can manage, and pets a hand over his flank. “I’m coming, sweetheart, just gotta grab a rubber.”

“No, don’t.”

“Steve?”

“I want to feel everything. Please.” Steve can feel hot tears clinging to his lashes, and hopes Eddie doesn’t notice. “Want you to come inside me.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, voice small. “Still need lube, okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers shakily. He needs to be wet for Eddie, wants it to feel good for them both, and the ache in his taint is back. The need makes him clench, feels like his entire crotch is squeezing—

A hand caresses his right asscheck. “You sure about this?” Eddie asks softly.

Steve unclenches. “Yes. Want you so bad it hurts.”

The hand moves, thumb sliding between his cheeks and moving one to the side, exposing his hole and—

Eddie’s breath catches, thumb sliding lower, skirting past his asshole and down to press on Steve’s taint.

It gives.

New wetness is exposed to the air as Eddie’s thumb pushes into him. “Steve?”

“Oh my god…”

“Steve… You’ve got a pussy behind your balls.”

“What?” he gasps, clenching again, feeling the muscles grip Eddie’s thumb. “No, I…” He shifts, takes more of Eddie’s thumb inside him. “It came true.”

This time, it’s Eddie’s turn to ask, “What?” all breathy and light.

“I wished for this.”

“You wished for a pussy?”

Steve nods, strains to look over his shoulder, to meet Eddie’s eyes. “So you could fuck me the way I want.”

Something flashes between them, a frisson making the air thick as Eddie withdraws from the warm clutch of Steve’s inexplicable new pussy. He helps Steve to stand, turns him in his arms, and kisses him so gently, like he’s made of porcelain. “Tell me what you really want, Steve.”

“A baby. Your baby.” Eddie kisses him again, nips at his lower lip before letting Steve continue. “I want you to fill me with your cum, want it to catch. I want to hold your hand over my belly so you can feel her kick.”

“Her?”

“Or him. As long as it’s yours and you hold me and lo-” Steve chokes on the last words, tears streaming down his face that Eddie is trying to kiss away.

“Why me?” Eddie asks softly.

“It’s like you said, something in you speaks to my soul, too. You’re handsome and you care so much about everything. You look out for the little guy.” He raises his head, looks directly into Eddie’s eyes as he finishes, “You have a big heart; I hope it can handle me when I’m too much.”

“No such thing as too much of you, sweetheart.”

The kiss after that is slow and sweet, and wet from too many tears. Eventually, it grows heated again, and Eddie lays Steve down on his back, fingers sinking into his pussy and stretching him open. Steve uses one hand to lift his balls out of the way, the other slides into Eddie’s curls, holding him as Eddie’s cock breaches his entrance.

After that it all moves so fast, Eddie comings with a grunt, filling Steve with waves of heat on his final thrusts. Steve wraps his long legs around Eddie’s waist, keeping him inside as long as possible, long enough for Eddie to get hard again, to come again. They fall asleep tangled up in one another, saving their further confessions for the morning.

🎂🎂🎂

Steve and Eddie talk—after Steve calls Robin to report that the most amazing thing happened, but that he’s going to need her help figuring some things out—both a little embarrassed, but pleased to know they both want the same things. It doesn’t take long to decide they’re in this together, and they celebrate with a little cunnilingus, Steve coming and squirting at the same time.

With how much sex they have after that, it comes as no surprise when Steve is suddenly nauseated most days. He’s not sure the at-home test will work for him, but they still try, using the little beakers and double checking the positive result.

Steve cries in Eddie’s arms.

Their wish came true.

[theboytatu]

how was smtown???

it kept raining all throughout the hours previous to the concert starting. we were handed trash bags like katrina victims but luckily it ended right before the show started 👍

the venue was half empty so they relocated almost everyone and luckily it didn't look as empty in the end. i ended up with front row view so yay for smtown flopping ❤️

tvxq and key had THE single best performances of the night. by far. like oh my god. what a show. WHAT A GOOD FUCKING SHOW

the flops of the night were nct 127 and riize. even wish and dream had better performances than them like omfg? 127 were not even trying man. i've seen them before live and this performance was painful to see. they're clearly missing taeyong. plus haechan wasn't even trying he wasn't moving. johnny and jungwoo were a fucking mess. the only ones that sort of tried were yuta and doyoung. like i'm a yuta hater and i ended up thanking him for trying to pick up the pace. maybe it was the altitude but like. they also looked pissed idk there were weird vibes all around

WAYV PERFORMED LOVE TALK AND I PASSED AWAY. sadly i couldn't really see ten that much but honestly. seeing him on the big screen was enough. by god it was enough.

shinee were superb. sadly they had no group songs but minho and key were.... glowing. when they came together to do their ment key shouted in spanish SHINEE IS FOREVER and promised the full group will come back with a world tour!!! 🥺

also lowkey the chemistry between them is. honestly kinda crazy lmfao. minho was glued to key's waist the entire time like he was ON HIM like a man who just told you he wants to go steady and blew off all his side pieces. not to be a delusional motherfucker but i think key let him hit it before the show like jesus dude

SOMEHOW ENDED UP A SUJU STAN....? these men do not play about mexico. like oh god. eunhyuk and leeteuk were insane. kyuhyun is SO loved the entire stadium went BATSHIT every time he was the focus

exo. exo. EXO. 10/10. still can't believe they're real and that i saw them with my own two eyes. chanyeol is INSANE looking live. like he is drop dead gorgeous. and GIGANTIC?

also chanyeol came up to our side of the stage. i was wearing a cherry cap and he might have seen it. i know he pointed to our area and my lizard brain is choosing to believe that means we're destined to be together. best y/n moment of the night 10/10 no notes.

their performance of git it up was also top 3 of the night. like kai added so much flavor to it. they were insane. i did cry a little bit at their mention when they said they really couldn't believe they still had fans here. jesus christ i will petrol bomb sm hq one day i swear to god

we saved ourselves from an nct dream love me right cover and i thank every god above for that. they still managed to put on a better performance than the rest of nct (sans wayv) so like. that tells you where the whole group is at.

sadly the girl groups had little time to shine imo but we got an amazing performance of bad boy and red flavor by rv. i am not an rv stan but it was great to see tbh. im happy they could come here because they have a huge fanbase too

aespa were great!! it's just that i literally saw them already two months ago so it was like yay ❤️ my girls ❤️ they used handheld mics for their performances - thank GOD they sang live this time around instead of lipsyncing... sm doesn't let them sing live for some reason and they looked really happy to be able to actually sing the fucking songs. they gave us whiplash, next level and supernova. 10/10 no notes

also their outfits being miles better than the ones they wore at their own concert stop 😭 ningning looked ETHEREAL. holy fucking shit. her hair and makeup were flawless. people literally gasped when she came on the screen.

everybody looked really happy to be there except for half of nct riize and h2h lol. i think they're obviously pretty overworked and flying here less than 24 hours before the concert was such a shit idea.... like idols were literally saying we're still jetlagged we're still tired jfksjkdkf. the altitude is no joke!! </3

overall this was an AMAZING concert. like if you're any partially an sm group stan you will really enjoy it. they played the full four hour set too. i highly recommend anyone going if they still can. sadly i am in this pink blood shit for life i cannot lie to myself. this impact is different. these idols are simply built different sorry!!!! 💖💖💖

[jesterkoops]

Doing a rewatch with my friend and I noticed a few things in 2x01-03.

They DID move the security/control room. The old security room is now being used to host the family visitation suite. Where they moved it though, is unclear. It makes sense that after the OTC they would try to get that away from the innies but that throws a wrench into my theory about the innies controlling the contingencies in S3. At the same time, it seems odd to me for next season to start with the innies just all getting Glasgow Blocked immediately. So I wonder how they're going to play that. Maybe the point is that they cannot Glasgow Block them all because that would mean awakening all the outies on the severed floor which would be a complete disaster, perhaps more difficult to control than having the innies down there. People seem to assume that it's as easy as flipping a switch and then the outies will happily walk out and go back to their lives, but I doubt it. Imagine the PR mess they would get into if the outies could actually see the severed floor, understand what goes on, and have dozens if not hundreds of people who are not supposed to meet on the outside suddenly in close proximity. And perhaps the Glasgow Block is something that can only be activated before the outie goes down to the floor? That's why it's called a "block"? Because it blocks the switch before it happens?

Confirmation that Helena did not watch the security footage to watch Helly so she could better imitate her: the board didn’t decide to give Helly back to Mark until after Mark had already been back at work for a few days and sabotaged his new team. When Helena watches that footage, it was right after the gala; she was watching because they said something about checking the footage to figure out who they might have talked to/how they pulled it off. And she was already curious about Mark (post-hanging/stopping the tape on him walking down the hall), so she probably used it as an excuse to snoop on him (at one point she's glancing off to the side to check nobody's coming, as if she's not supposed to be watching this/she's focusing on the wrong things).

Mark likely comes back to work because he's curious about Milchick telling him he found love down there. This is such a subtle detail that flies under the radar. There might be a tiny tiny part of him that is starting to wonder if Gemma is alive, but at that stage he's still denying that's possible and it's not really a focus of his. Milchick convinces him with the whole "he found love/the solace will reach its way to you out here" spiel. Which means Mark is curious/starting to be open to moving on.

[chrissonnyangel]

𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜…

bluecollar!chris & shy!reader

𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 . . . 22. super creative but chose being a blue collar worker to be safe. loves getting his hands dirty. tease. part time smoker. written by lana del ray. lives in denim. extroverted. physical touch king. lethal face card. has his friends over every weekend to watch the games with them. women who walk past him swoon instantly. timberlands. works himself until he's exhausted so he can be looked after by shy!reader all evening. leaves small love notes and trinkets for shy!reader to make her day a little better. 9-5. goofy behind closed doors. treats his girlfriend like she's glass. his only friends are his work colleges. loves family gatherings and having friends over but prefers to be tucked away with shy!reader. head over heels for his girlfriend. late night car rides will be the death of him. a real romantic when he wants to be.

𝙨𝙝𝙮!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 . . . 22. professional daydreamer. introverted. nostalgia will be the death of her. home bird. always leaving the house with makeup on, no matter the occasion. keeps to herself. new nails every week. indecisive asf. blushes at anything and everything chris does. fidgets. total lovebug. written by role model. reads whenever she can. shops for decorations for her's and chris' house every week. loves to maintain her garden with fresh blooming flowers. gentle. emotionally mature. great part time chef and baker. always has her hair in a wacky style. chris' first love and only love. cozy weekends. inexperienced. chris' nickname for her is petal.

𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙 . . .

It had been a couple of years since graduation and you suddenly had a message notification pop up on your phone. No name was displayed, weird. The message read out:

hey y/n, it's chris from high school. idk if you remember me but i thought maybe we could get something to eat sometime?

It seemed like a care free message, but in reality chris was fully stressing out about it ever since he sent it. you didn't really have a big online presence, occasionally you would post a photo dump to show classmates from high school that you were still alive, but that was the maximum. You both graduated 4 years ago, why would he get in touch now? It took you forever to reply to chris, there would be a thought, you'd write it out, overthink and then delete. But after about 25 minutes you managed to click send:

hi chris, i sort of remember. Were you the guy that was a triplet? And, how did you get this number?

Chris shot up immediately when he saw a notification with your name attached. His fingers swiped over the keypad, typing out a response that might grab your attention.

yeah, that's me. the triplet guy lmao. i asked a few friends if they had it. Is that a problem?

Chris smirked from behind the screen at his cheeky reply. The response caught you off guard a little at how comfortable he was texting an almost stranger. You went into defence mode, not wanting to have accidentally hurt his feelings.

It's not a problem. I just didn't want to be texting a random with someone else in mind.

Chris waited eagerly for your response, his finger tapped against his bedside table to pass the time. Every time a reply sent through, a smile kept reappearing on his face.

He had grown some confidence over the last 4 years. During high school he saw you sometimes in the hallway, on the way to class with your friends, getting your things out of your locker. Some guys had talked about you a few times, mentioning that you were pretty cute, Chris usually brushed it off and ignored the statement.

But graduation really messed with his mind. It was the way how you walked onto that stage to grab your diploma, with that super sweet, awkard, upside down smile you had. Chris noticed small things like thay from everytime he passed you. He had denied and suppressed his feelings for 4 years of school, not bothering to do anything about it. But when him and his brothers started talking about the past memories of high school recently, all that could enter his mind was you. And how he was finally going to start being brave.

Your a smart girl. So how about that bite to eat?

The back and forth messaging went on for a while, you both finally agreed to meet up for a late lunch tomorrow.

comment if you wanna be added to the taglist !!

taglist - @whore4chris @courta13 @cherrystainss @leila-marie4 @csturnioloswifey @l0s3rhaha @starryfursturniolo

[new-age-cassandra]

Apologies for how long this is about to be

I am currently in college getting a dual minor in History and Gender and Women’s studies, and that future degree is calling to me telling me I need to talk about the historical context of Malevolent and how the time period plays a bigger role in the story than most people think about specifically when it comes to diversity in minority characters (Will not be talking about season 5 because that is whole other can of Cassandra’s history brain worms). 

Real quick, this is honestly just word vomit, truly just me rambling, I don’t want to start shit these are just my observations as someone who is currently studying related topics. Sorry for the hot takes ig. 

adding cut here before I get into it lol

A thing I love about Malevolent is that Harlan Guthrie made an effort to do research and be as historically accurate as he could while telling a supernatural story. One of the things anyone will quickly learn when researching any history, is that most of the time life was not fun unless you were a straight, white, upper class, cisgender man. Even by the 1930's America was extremely segregated, women had the right to vote but not much else, not to mention homosexuality and gender transition was criminalized until around 1964. 

I have been seeing a lot of talk about Faroeverse and people saying it’s just the same story but yuri and guys… Malevolent would not be the same story at all if Arthur was a woman. As I said before, women barely had rights, they also had completely different lives. Women in the 1930’s were still working incredibly hard for their rights.  Not to mention that the female experience in any time period is just so much different from that of the male, I could write a whole other rant just about the differences there but we’ll save that for another day. Swapping Arthur’s gender and trying to keep Malevolent historically accurate changes e v e r y t h i n g. Faroe/Bella/whatever you wanna call her, would not be able to be a PI, she would not be able to buy a gun and a new identity, she would not be able to hitchhike with the confidence Arthur did, she would not be able to enter the freemason’s building,  and so much more. If Malevolent is about a woman in the 1930’s it is a very different story. 

Only going to briefly touch on race because anyone can picture Arthur however they want and tbh this is the internet, anything I say someone will have a problem with… Just like don’t complain that majority of people see Arthur as a white man, because unfortunatly…  historically speaking  if he wasn’t a white man he would almost certainly not have made it out of Arkham. Also I don’t think that Harlan (you know a white man from Canada) wants to write about racism in 1930’s America, and honestly I think he’s not in the wrong for that.

My final thing is I feel it is unfair to point at Malevolent and say it’s “queerbait” or be mad that there are not “canonically queer characters”. The 1930’s were not safe for queer people like at all. A character will not just go up to another and say “I am gay and in love with you” because if someone in the 1930’s did that there would be a non-zero possibility of them being beaten, lynched, or even burned alive for it. Malevolent is not queerbaiting, because also it was not intentionally written to be queer. Does it have like an insane amount of subtext and queer coding similar to media from the time? Absolutely.  But it is just not queerbait guys, Harlan is not teasing us with a “Will they won’t they” he has gone on record to say they won’t, but that we all are free to enjoy it however we want. 

If you read all of this… I’m sorry. Hope you enjoyed. Again I say I am not here to start shit, these are just my thoughts. Gonna go write an essay about Malevolent for fun now, if I publish that one it will be much more refined and professional than this mess lol.

[unabashegirl]

Love Island — part 4

AU. Based on the TV show.

Author's note: Please, please don’t hesitate to send in your requests — whether it’s blurbs, one-shots, or even just a fun idea you want to see come to life. If you're feeling a little shy, no worries at all — you can always send them in anonymously through Tumblr! I’d love to hear from you and create more content you’ll enjoy 🌞💌

⭐️ Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon

⭐️ Please consider submitting your one shot request -> Forms

The sun glinted off the pool as Y/N sat on one of the loungers, her legs dipped lazily in the water. Lucas plopped down beside her, his usual laid-back grin in place as he swirled his feet in the pool.

“Alright, missus,” he began, leaning back on his hands. “Two days since the big shake-up. Spill. How’s it going with Harry? You two the villa’s next power couple or what?”

Y/N let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she glanced at the water. “Hardly,” she admitted, a touch of frustration in her tone. “Honestly, Lucas, I don’t know what’s going on. He hasn’t… made a move. Nothing.”

Lucas frowned, leaning forward slightly. “Nothing at all? Not even a cheeky cuddle at night? The man’s sleeping next to you, for crying out loud.”

“Exactly!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “We talk, we laugh, but that’s it. He’s sweet, and I do feel something when we’re together, but I can’t tell if he’s just being cautious or if he’s… not as into it as I thought.”

Lucas gave her a thoughtful look, running a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t sound like Harry. Bloke’s confident. If he likes you, he’d usually be all in.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said again, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s making me second-guess everything. I thought we had this connection, you know? But now, I’m starting to think maybe I got it wrong.”

Lucas gave her a nudge with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t go down that rabbit hole. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Bloke’s interested. Maybe he’s just trying to take it slow—prove he’s not here for some quick fling.”

She sighed, her eyes fixed on the pool. “I guess. But I didn’t sign up for Love Island to sit around wondering what someone’s thinking. If he’s into me, I wish he’d just… show it.”

Lucas grinned, his tone teasing. “Why don’t you make the first move, then? Shock his system a bit.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “You think I should?”

“Why not?” Lucas replied with a shrug. “Worst-case scenario, he’s not into it, and you move on. Best-case scenario, you get the spark you’re waiting for.”

She considered it, biting her lip. “Maybe. But it’s just… disappointing, you know? I didn’t expect to feel this unsure with someone I like.”

Lucas gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Trust me, Y/N. If Harry’s playing it cool, it’s probably because he’s worried about messing things up. You’ve got him thinking. Just give it time—or better yet, don’t. Light a fire under him and see what happens.”

Y/N laughed, the tension easing slightly. “You’re full of advice today, aren’t you?”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m the villa’s agony uncle,” Lucas said with a wink. “But seriously, you’ve got this. Just do what feels right.”

As Y/N smiled, feeling a bit lighter, the narrator’s voice cut in, “Looks like Y/N’s got a choice to make—play it safe or take the plunge. And with Lucas as her wingman, what could possibly go wrong? Stay tuned, because things are about to get interesting!”

Harry was mid-set of bicep curls. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow as he focused on his reps. Beside him, Ethan, the newest addition to the villa, was hammering out some push-ups, grunting with every move.

Lucas sauntered up, a water bottle in hand and a half-hearted determination on his face. He plopped onto a bench, picked up the lightest dumbbell available, and started lifting with exaggerated effort.

“Ah, here we go. Gym lad Lucas in the house,” Ethan quipped, smirking as he moved into a plank.

Harry chuckled. “Didn’t peg you for a weights guy, mate.”

“Oh, I’m all about it,” Lucas said, flexing his arm dramatically before dropping the dumbbell after one rep. “Alright, that’s enough for me. Can’t overdo it, you know?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head.

Lucas leaned back, his casual demeanor dropping slightly as he watched Harry move to the pull-up bar. “Right, Haz. Gotta chat with you about something.”

Harry glanced at him between reps, a curious eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

Lucas glanced at Ethan, who was still engrossed in his workout, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s about Y/N.”

That caught Harry’s attention. He paused mid-rep, his hands gripping the bar tightly. “What about her?”

“Well,” Lucas began, keeping his tone light, “she’s feeling a bit... unsure about things. Reckons you’ve been keeping her in limbo.”

Harry let go of the bar, landing lightly on his feet. “In limbo? What do you mean?”

Lucas shrugged, swirling the water in his bottle. “She likes you, mate. But she’s thinking maybe you’re not as into it as she thought. Says you haven’t really made a move.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands resting on his hips. “That’s not it. I just didn’t want to come on too strong, you know? Didn’t want her to think I was just playing the game.”

“Right,” Lucas said, nodding. “But she’s not a mind reader. All she sees is you holding back. If you’re interested, Haz, you’ve got to show her. Otherwise, she’ll start thinking she got it wrong.”

Ethan sat up from his plank, catching the last bit of the conversation. “Sounds like you’re in trouble, mate,” he teased, smirking.

Harry ignored him, his attention fixed on Lucas. “So, she really said that?”

Lucas gave him a pointed look. “She said she feels disappointed. That’s not a good sign, mate. You don’t want her head turning because she thinks you’re not interested.”

Harry’s expression shifted, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “I didn’t realize she felt that way. I thought… I thought we were good.”

“Then let her know,” Lucas said simply. “You’re into her, right?”

Harry’s lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah, I am. She’s… different. In a good way.”

“Then stop messing about,” Lucas said, standing up and patting him on the shoulder. “Before someone else swoops in.”

The narrator’s voice chimed in as Lucas walked off, “Wise words from Lucas there. Harry’s been playing it cool, but if he waits too long, he might find himself cooling off in the single beds. Will this wake-up call get him moving? Or will Y/N’s head turn before he has the chance? Stay tuned!”

Lucas was sprawled on a sun lounger with his sunglasses on, taking a well-earned break from his brief stint in the gym. He was sipping a bottle of water when Georgia sauntered up, her strides purposeful and her eyes narrowed with curiosity.

“Alright, Lucas,” she began, plopping herself down on the lounger next to him. “Got a minute?”

Lucas tilted his sunglasses down, one eyebrow raised. “For you, Georgia? Always. What’s on your mind?”

Georgia leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Saw you having a little chinwag with Harry earlier. What were you two chatting about, then?”

Lucas smirked, leaning back with deliberate nonchalance. “Oh, just lad stuff. You know, protein shakes, reps, how to get biceps like mine.”

Georgia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I’m not buying it. I saw the way you were talking—looked serious. Come on, Lucas, spill.”

He sighed, dragging out the moment just to wind her up. “Fine. If you must know, we were talking about Y/N.”

That caught her attention. Georgia straightened, her expression sharpening. “Oh? And what about her?”

Lucas took another sip of water, playing coy. “Just... how things are going between them. That’s all.”

Georgia’s lips pursed, her annoyance barely concealed. “And what did you tell him?”

Lucas chuckled, pushing his sunglasses back up. “What’s with the third degree, Georgia? You got a sudden interest in Harry’s love life?”

She crossed her arms, glaring. “I just think it’s funny, that’s all. Y/N swoops in and suddenly everyone’s falling over themselves to make sure she’s alright. Meanwhile, the rest of us are just sitting here like extras in her little love story.”

“Extras?” Lucas repeated, laughing. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Georgia leaned closer, her voice dropping. “I’m serious, Lucas. It’s not fair. She’s already got Harry wrapped around her finger, and now you’re playing her cheerleader? What about the rest of us, huh?”

Lucas sighed, sitting up and turning to face her. “Georgia, you’re making this way bigger than it is. Harry’s into Y/N—simple as that. If you fancy him, then crack on and let him know. But don’t make it about her. That’s not fair.”

Georgia’s eyes flashed. “I’m not making it about her. I just think everyone’s acting like she’s this innocent little thing when she’s clearly playing the game. And you’re helping her.”

Lucas shook his head, his tone firm but calm. “Georgia, no one’s playing the game more than you right now, and we both know it. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with Harry, not me. And maybe, just maybe, ask yourself if this is about the connection you want or the attention you’re not getting.”

Georgia sat back, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, she seemed lost for words—a rare sight in the villa.

The narrator’s voice chimed in with impeccable timing, “And there you have it, folks—Lucas, the voice of reason, leaving Georgia with more questions than answers. Will she take his advice, or will she turn this into another episode of Georgia vs. the World? Grab your popcorn—it’s only getting juicier!”

The beauty room buzzed with chatter as the girls got ready for the night, brushes, curling irons, and bottles of setting spray scattered across every available surface. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor by the mirror, towel-drying her damp hair after a refreshing dip in the pool. Chloe was next to her, applying highlighter with precision, while Amber and Lila debated lipstick shades near the vanity.

A light knock on the door brought everyone’s attention to the doorway. Harry stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his cheeks slightly pink. He gave an awkward little wave, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Y/N.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he said, his voice warm but tentative. “Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec?”

The room fell silent, every girl suddenly finding a reason to stop what they were doing and focus on this unexpected development. Y/N blinked in surprise, clutching her towel for a moment before standing up.

“Sure,” she said, glancing at the girls, who were all pretending not to listen. “Be right back.”

Harry stepped aside as she walked through the door, his hand briefly brushing her arm. They walked down the hallway, the hum of conversation in the beauty room resuming the second the door closed behind them. Y/N felt her heart pick up pace, the air between them charged with a nervous kind of energy.

They stopped near the staircase, just out of sight but still within earshot of the curious girls inside. Harry leaned against the wall, his hands back in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he gathered his words.

“So,” he started, his signature smile creeping onto his face, “I, uh… wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…” Y/N prompted, her voice soft but teasing, trying to make him a bit more comfortable.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, his confidence momentarily slipping. “I’ve been thinking. We haven’t really had proper time together, just the two of us, you know?”

Y/N’s brows rose, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I guess we haven’t.”

“Right.” Harry exhaled, his eyes meeting hers. “So, I thought, maybe tonight… would you have dinner with me? Downstairs. Just us. I’ve got something planned.”

Her stomach flipped at his words. “You planned something?”

Harry’s lips quirked in a shy grin. “I tried. So… what do you think?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to.”

The grin on Harry’s face spread wide, his dimples deepening. “Brilliant. Right, I’ll see you down there later, then.”

“See you later,” Y/N echoed, her voice light and filled with unspoken excitement. Harry turned and walked away, glancing back at her with a cheeky smile before disappearing down the stairs.

As soon as he was gone, Y/N stood frozen for a second, the moment sinking in. Then she squeaked, barely containing her excitement as she practically skipped back to the beauty room.

Inside, all eyes were on her. Chloe was the first to speak, her brows shooting up. “What was that about, then?”

Y/N sat down, her smile impossible to hide. “He’s planned something… dinner for just us tonight.”

Amber let out a low whistle, while Lila smirked. “Look at you, getting the royal treatment.”

“Alright, spill!” Chloe demanded. “What did he say? What’s the plan?”

Y/N shook her head, laughing. “I don’t know! He didn’t give much away. Just said he’d see me later.”

The girls erupted in chatter, each offering their thoughts, theories, and teasing remarks about what Harry might have in store.

The narrator chimed in, “Harry Styles—villa romantic, dinner planner, and now the cause of one very giddy beauty room. Let’s hope his cooking skills are better than his pickup lines, or this romantic gesture might end in more flames than sparks!”

The beauty room was alive with excitement as the girls gathered around Y/N, all pitching in to help her prepare for her date with Harry. Chloe was meticulously curling her hair, Amber was swatching lipsticks on the back of her hand to find the perfect shade, and Lila was busy laying out jewelry options. Even the background chatter had a sense of celebration, the girls buzzing with curiosity about Harry’s surprise dinner plan.

“Alright, babe, you’re going to absolutely knock him out with this dress,” Amber said, holding up a sleek black number. “It’s a power move.”

“Oh, definitely,” Lila added. “Harry won’t know what hit him.”

But in the corner of the room, Georgia sat with her arms crossed, her expression darkening with every passing minute. Finally, she let out a scoff loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“This is a bit much, isn’t it?” she said, her tone sharp. “I mean, it’s just dinner. You’d think he was proposing or something.”

The room fell silent for a beat, the atmosphere turning awkward. Y/N glanced at Chloe, who rolled her eyes before continuing to style her hair.

“Honestly, Georgia,” Amber said, her tone clipped, “can you just let her enjoy this? You’ve been on one all day.”

“I’m just saying,” Georgia continued, undeterred. “It’s not fair that everything is always about Y/N. What about the rest of us? Some of us haven’t had a proper chance with Harry because she’s hogging all his attention.”

Y/N straightened, her lips pressing into a firm line. She turned to Georgia, her voice calm but pointed. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Georgia. Maybe that’s the real issue here.”

The room collectively inhaled, the tension palpable. Georgia’s face flushed, her eyes narrowing as she stood abruptly. “You know what? Forget it. Have your perfect little date. I’m done.”

She stormed out of the beauty room, slamming the door behind her. The girls exchanged glances, a mix of frustration and relief.

“Well, that went well,” Chloe muttered, finishing the last curl in Y/N’s hair.

“She’s so exhausting,” Amber said, shaking her head. “She’s not a girls’ girl, not even a little bit.”

The narrator’s voice cut in, “Georgia, leaving the beauty room like it’s a scene from a soap opera. Who knew glitter eyeshadow could cause so much drama?!”

Outside, Georgia wiped at her eyes as she wandered through the villa. She spotted Tom near the fire pit, tossing small pebbles into the grass. He looked up as she approached, his expression softening when he saw her teary face.

“Oi, Georgia,” he said, standing. “You alright?”

She sniffed, brushing a hand under her nose. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had enough of this place, that’s all.”

Tom frowned, stepping closer. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though her voice cracked. “It’s just… everyone’s so fake. And Y/N—ugh, I can’t stand how everyone fawns over her.”

Tom’s jaw tightened at the mention of Y/N, his own frustrations clearly bubbling under the surface. “Yeah, well… she’s not as perfect as everyone thinks.”

Georgia glanced at him, a flicker of understanding passing between them. “You see it too, don’t you? She’s not what she seems.”

Tom nodded, his gaze hardening. “You could say that.”

The two stood there in silence for a moment, the crackling fire pit casting flickering shadows around them. Whatever unspoken alliance had just formed, it was clear: both were nursing their own wounds, and Y/N was the common denominator.

Y/N took a deep breath as she stepped out of the beauty room, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. She smoothed down the sleek black dress Amber had insisted on, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor as she walked through the villa. Her nerves buzzed in her chest, but she couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto her face.

Lucas was waiting by the entrance to the pool, grinning like a proud older brother. He gave her a little thumbs-up as she approached.

“Alright, superstar,” he said, gesturing toward the softly lit path. “Follow me. Your prince awaits.”

Y/N laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Thanks, Lucas.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Harry. He’s been pacing for the last hour,” Lucas teased as he led her down the path, away from the villa’s usual bustle. The pool glimmered under the lights, and in the farthest corner, a small table was set up, complete with candles and a bottle of wine.

Harry stood by the table, hands clasped in front of him. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone, paired with tailored black trousers. His curls were perfectly tousled, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of a glossy magazine spread. The sight of him stole Y/N’s breath for a moment.

As soon as he spotted her, Harry’s face lit up with a boyish grin, though his hand immediately went to rub the back of his neck—a telltale sign of his nerves. Lucas gave Y/N an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the villa.

“Wow,” Harry said as Y/N approached, his voice soft but filled with awe. “You look… stunning.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “This setup is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, his voice dropping as he fiddled with the cuff of his shirt. “I, uh, hope it’s alright. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, her smile widening.

They both sat down at the table, the soft glow of the candles illuminating their faces. Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the spread before her—grilled salmon, a colorful salad, and a decadent chocolate dessert waiting on the side.

“You did all this?” she asked, her tone incredulous but impressed.

“Well,” Harry admitted, his dimples deepening with a sheepish smile, “I had a bit of help from the boys. But I did pick everything out.”

Y/N laughed, her nerves melting slightly. “I’m impressed.”

As they started eating, Harry stole a glance at her, the flickering candlelight catching the sparkle in her eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” he said softly, his usual cheeky demeanor replaced with something more genuine.

Y/N set down her fork, her gaze meeting his. “So have I. I was starting to think you’d never make a move.”

Harry chuckled, his hand running through his curls. “Yeah, well… I’m not exactly smooth when it comes to this sort of thing. Honestly, I’ve been a nervous wreck.”

“Nervous?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You? The guy who walked into the villa like he owned the place?”

“That was all an act,” Harry confessed, his grin widening. “You, though… you’ve had me completely thrown from day one.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, her smile softening. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the villa’s noise a distant hum in the background. It felt like their own little world, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel grateful for the effort Harry had put into making the evening special.

“So,” Harry said, his voice breaking the quiet as he leaned forward slightly, his green eyes locked on hers. “Am I living up to your expectations?”

Y/N smirked, tilting her head. “Let’s just say… you’ve set the bar very high.”

Harry laughed, his shoulders relaxing as the tension between them shifted into something lighter, more natural. “Good. I’ll take that.”

After a few more moments of laughter, the air between them shifted from lighthearted banter to something more intimate. Harry, still smiling, reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against Y/N’s hand. She looked down at their hands for a moment, her heart picking up its pace, before she slowly met his gaze.

His voice was quieter now, tinged with something deeper, more serious. “Let me kiss you”

Y/N’s breath caught, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. She didn’t say anything at first, just a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she looked up at him. Her heart raced in her chest, but her eyes were full of warmth as she held his gaze.

Harry took that as all the encouragement he needed.

With a soft exhale, he leaned across the small table, his eyes still locked onto hers. The moment felt like it lasted forever, the world narrowing down to just the two of them. He closed the space between them, tilting his head slightly, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative—like he was savoring every second. But as the connection deepened, it became something more. It was warm and soft, full of the unspoken chemistry that had been building between them for days. The flickering candlelight illuminated their faces as they pulled away slightly, both a little breathless, eyes still locked in that quiet, shared understanding.

Y/N smiled softly, her heart hammering in her chest as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still feeling the warmth of his touch on her skin.

“Well, that escalated quickly! A kiss, a soft chuckle, and suddenly, we’ve got a proper Love Island romance on our hands. Who knew dinner and a kiss could be the most suspenseful part of the evening? Stay tuned, folks”

let me know if you would like to get added to the tag list!

TAGLIST: @st-ev-ie, @harrystyleshotwife, @valuunit, @familyshow-orisit, @ellaorchard, @loverrryxo, @dashingday, @harrystyles1d52, @stylessbean, @gem1712, @girlontheblock

[humpster35]

I’m better off alone.

| Contains: Toxic!reader x Bf!Chris

|Tw: manipulation, arguing, crying and mention of cheating.

Today started like any other regular day for Chris. The same argument spewed from a tiny question. “Where did you go last night?” Y/n knew that Chris kind of knew what was going on, but she didn’t give him any leads.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Chris.” Y/n shrugged her arms annoyed. Chris sighed and looked at her.

“Yea well I fucking texted Matt and asked him to see if you had talked to Nick and he didn’t even respond.”

“Why would you text Matt?”

“Because you two are fucking close. I don’t know I thought maybe he’d know.”

The unamused expression written across Y/n’s face told him all he needed to know. She didn’t care that he was worried about her or who she was potentially going to see, she only cared about if the jewelry he bought her looked good. Chris watched as Y/n started putting on the jewelry, standing a few feet away from his was this girl who he used to take on late date nights. Was the girl he once knew, gone?

“Babe. Just tell me where you go okay? I can’t keep making plans for us to hang out at night and then you texting me five—.”

Y/n cut him off.

“—Five minutes later and saying i’m busy.”

The girl sighed before gently grabbing Chris’s hands. In Y/n’s mind, Chris was pathetic. He had turned into this soft guy who never grabbed what he wanted. All he did now was complain and critique.

“Chris listen okay?”

Chris nodded and took a breath. Y/n always knew how to get in his head, she was his own personal lighthouse. As she started talking he could barely understand a word that she said, because he had just noticed a huge purple hickey on her neck.

“What the fuck is that?” Chris snatched his hands back and pointed two fingers at her neck.

“Chris okay first of all don’t touch me like that—.”

Chris ignored her and tapped at the hickey. The two fingers pressing deeper as began to speak.

“Nah. You’re not answering the question. Why the fuck is there a hickey on your neck?” Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed his two fingers. She slowly inserted them inside of her mouth so now it looked like Chris was holding a gun into it.

“Y/n this isn’t some fucking game. Who have you been fucking?” Retracting his fingers, Chris shot daggers into Y/n. He felt disgusted and betrayed knowing that the girl he loved was out and maybe even under some other dude.

“Is it Matt?” Chris blankly asked.

Y/n blushed as she stared at Chris in shock.

With pursed lips Y/n looked down and started messing with the necklace around her. Chris didn’t say anything for a minute as the two stood in an uncomfortable silence. There was clearly a shift happening. Chris walked over to the bed and sat down.

Y/n watched in shock as Chris began crying and clutching at his chest. She knew that he loved her but she didn’t think this would affect him this much. While her mind was processing the scene in front of her, the instant moving of her feet guiding her right at his side.

“Chris please stop crying. I’m sorry i’m sorry.” Y/n started to cry herself as the hiccups of Chris became louder and his once pale face, had now turned into a deep reddish hue. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking.

“Please i’m so sorry forgive me. I love you so much. We didn’t have sex, I just kissed him.”

Chris’s hand grasped at his shirt not trying to tear it off but as if he was trying to rip his own heart out. This is a feeling Chris has dealt with before, having already fallen in love with three people before Y/n. This time was supposed to be different. Why couldn’t he satisfy her? Did he even make her happy? These thoughts swirled in his mind as Y/n repeatedly apologized and kissed at his lips.

“Chris please answer me. I never wanted to hurt you. I love yo—.”

“Don’t say that. DONT FUCKING SAY THAT Y/n.” Chris yelled hysterically. His hands gently pushed away y/n. He shakes his head and grabs her face, pulling it closer before he began speaking.

“Did you always feel this way about Matt?” The tears poured out of his crystal blue eyes like a waterfall and his bottom lip began to twitch.

“Y/n I loved you. I still love—.” Chris hiccuped and whimpered looking away for a bit.

“Do you love him?”

Y/n breathlessly stared back at him. She knew that she fucked up. Before she could respond the girl looked down at Chris’s hand as he pulled out a tiny box from his left pocket.

“Oh no.” Was all Y/n could say as she watched Chris calm his breathing down before speaking.

“You know, tonight was gonna be the night that I would propose.” Chris chuckled dryly. “It would’ve been perfect yk? I would have Nick decorate the restaurant and I even hired your favorite singer to come just to serenade you.”

Y/n nodded while stroking his hair. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Chris you can still do all of that. This means nothing, you know my heart resides with you.” Chris let y/n kiss him again. The feeling of his plump lips against his felt like the coldness of winter.

“Y/n you kissed my brother. YOU DONT FUCKING CARE ABOUT ME. ABOUT US!”

Y/n was quiet as she into his eyes. The same eyes his brother had and for some reason she didn’t understand why she couldn’t feel the way she does with Matt.

“This would mean nothing.” Chris looked down at the box. It held a most beautiful diamond studded ring. The sparkle of the tiny diamonds only shined through the eyes of his lover who he just found out cheated. But when he looked at her, his heart couldn’t help but feel full. Chris knew it would be hard to let y/n go.

Maybe it was because he didn’t truly know how life would be if he did. Maybe Chris just wanted to pretend that none of this even happened. He saw nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.

“Y/n, i’m scared.” Chris confessed as y/n wiped the tears from his eyes. The look in her face was one that only an angel could make. His breathing calmed down as she pulled him in.

“Chris, what we’ve built is worth more than a kiss. I thought you would love me no matter what.” Y/n got up and started to walk to the other side of the room.

“Y/n wait. I do love you. But you kissed Matt-.”

“So what Chris? So fucking what. I kissed Matt. It was a mistake and didn’t mean anything. You’ve always known how he’s been flirting with me. It’s not my fault if he kissed me.”

“But you kissed him back-.”

“No. Chris. I didn’t realize what was happening until it happened.”

Chris got silent and remembered all the times that Matt would ask to drive y/n places even though he had a car. Matt would tell Chris to “calm down” because he would never do that to his own brother.

“You can’t just show me an engagement ring and expect me to not wanna be with you.” Y/n angrily ranted while on the verge of tears. Her feelings had been hurt at the idea of Chris leaving her for someone else and seeing his new girl wearing the same ring that he once promised to her.

Chris stared into y/n’s hurt eyes. Maybe he was blaming the wrong person here. Y/n did always love Chris and even roasted Matt when they would all hang out.

“Y/n i’m not gonna leave you.”

She stopped crying.

“I’ll forgive you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions so fast. It doesn’t make what you did anymore right. I just need some time to process all of this.” Chris said softly. He never wanted to make Y/n feel bad. The tears couldn’t stop coming though. This feeling of pain lingered in his chest, he knew that what she did was wrong but he just couldn’t let her leave him.

“Chris. Thank you baby.” Y/n kissed him and helped wipe his tears. She smiled softly with her arms around him.

“Okay im gonna go get dressed. We have to celebrate okay?” Y/n said to Chris as she looked up to him.

Chris nodded and sniffled. He wiped his eyes and sat back down on the bed. The suit had now looked as if he was forced to wear it. This night has lost its meaning.

In the bathroom as Y/n got ready she thought about today’s earlier events. The smell of Matt’s cologne lingered in her nose as she held up one of Chris’s shirts. She missed him. The kiss had been an accident on her part yes, but the two knew that the feelings were always there. Maybe it just wasn’t well hidden as they thought.

tag list:

@hannahsturniolo @passionfruitchris @chrissonnyangel @chrissleftshoe @chrissturnioloslvt @lifecansmd

[ineffablecabbage]

for the domestic prompt... Benton/Carter #47 🥺

(lol I was trying to keep these drabble, double drabble or triple drabble size. Messed around and fucked up. ~ 1459 words)

Jackie didn't like being wrong about things, but at certain point, she had to admit that Walt had the situation with John Carter figured out long before she ever did.

Neither of them quite knew what to think when Peter brought the gangly… young… white med student home for Thanksgiving dinner. But Peter had insisted that their mother had invited him - something that their mother confirmed once or twice, though her word in those days could never truly be taken at face value - and the kid had the look on him like someone had just kicked his puppy, so Jackie had served him a plate and tried not to ignore how … close he clung to everything Peter said or did.

"He doesn't know any of you, and he had a rough day," Peter told her in the kitchen. "Give him more of grandma's mac and cheese that you perfected, and he'll warm up to you."

Men always compliment you when they're up to something, Grandma had said once.

"That's true," Walt agreed. "White people do love their cheese."

And to his credit, John Carter did look up at her with those sad little puppy eyes and tell her how he'd never had anything this delicious in his life, and thank her for her hospitality, and well… it was easy to see why her brother and her mother had been so easily charmed.

Her brother would deny being charmed, but Jackie had known her brother all his life, thank you very much, and if anyone else had looked at him and said "I've never had sweet potato pie," he would have called them a tasteless heathen. Instead, Peter gave the boy two slices and told him not to insult anyone by telling them pumpkin was better.

"Pumpkin is a little heavier on the spice," John Carter had commented. "The sweet potato is lighter and sweeter. Some people might prefer the spice."

Walt had elbowed her in the ribs then, and she had told him to be quiet. "It's a metaphor, Jackie. We should tell Peter that he's just been compared to a pumpkin pie, so he can be furious that he got to be the inferior pie," he whispered, because Walt never listened to her good advice.

Later when John Carter listened to each of her children in turn talk their various levels of nonsense - despite the heavy lids that the carb coma and turkey were giving him - Jackie sat between her mother and Walt and listened to Peter cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen. Her mother patted her hand and said, "Peter has nice friends, don't you think, Jackie?"

Walt had chuckled, and Jackie had elbowed him and told him to be quiet again. "Yes, Mama," she'd said.

"Ate all his pie," her mother had said. "Cleaned his whole plate. You know, you and Petey were both fussy eaters. Gave me and your father such fits."

"Well, family takes all types," Walt said, and Jackie elbowed the man again, because he didn't know how to be quiet at all.

Later, after company had gone and Mama had gone to bed, Walt declared, "That man is gonna be coming to Sunday dinners before all is said and done, mark my words."

"You talk too much, Walt," she said. "And that'll never happen. Peter's never even dated a white woman, and you have him out here dating a white man. And a student at that. That boy can't be much more than what? 23?"

"He won't always be his student," Walt answered. "And it's the 90s, Jackie. Your brother works with white people in a white hospital all day long… to borrow John Carter's metaphor, maybe he might decide he wants to try a different flavor of pie."

"If you use that metaphor again, you're sleeping on the couch until next Sunday dinner," Jackie grumbled.

Walt had laughed, and they had dropped it.

~*~

Time passed, of course, and Peter decided to make all sorts of terrible choices in his dating life. First, he decided to date a married woman. Oh, Walt loved to talk about that. ("You suppose that little white boy was married?") Then there was Carla, and oh, Lord, she was even worse. That was a fact. Now, Jackie will always love her nephew, but his mother was an entire mess and a half. Walt loved to talk about that, too. ("John Carter never insulted your cornbread.")

And after that, Peter apparently decided to dance on their father's grave and date a white woman, after all.

On the day they found that out, Walt did have to sleep on the couch, he was so insufferable.

~*~

More time passed, of course, and eventually, little brothers left to their own devices will almost stumble into making the right choices. Peter even started to date a stable, sane Black woman for a while - a fellow doctor and pediatrician.

"She seems nice," Jackie told him, during a Sunday dinner in which they were actually graced with his presence for a change. "Couldn't she get the day off?"

Peter shrugged. "It seemed a little early to be inviting her to Sunday dinner, don't you think?"

Walt laughed, and as they were doing the dishes, Walt told her firmly, "That man is never inviting that woman to this house for Sunday dinner."

"Oh, he will too."

"If she ever shows up, I'm gonna ask her if she's ever met John Carter."

"You will not."

~*~

There were only a few times that Jackie remembered hearing her little brother's voice break, and those are moments Jackie didn't like to think about at all. So when the phone call in the middle of the night woke her, asking if she could keep an eye on Reese for the night, because "something has happened," she knew it had to be bad.

She knew, because her little brother's voice broke in the middle of his request; he cleared his throat twice trying to regain composure.

She gave him the dignity he was trying to get back. "Sure, Peter. It's not a problem."

Later, when he came to pick Reese up, he would tell her that John Carter was injured, but he wouldn't tell her how. He will tell her that John Carter's useless parents had stayed in Tokyo.

Now, Jackie couldn't imagine either going to Tokyo or staying there if one of her children needed her. If one of her children were hurt, she would sooner try to swim the ocean herself than stay away from them.

She hadn't seen John Carter in years, but did remember that sweet boy who had been kind to her mother, to her children, and to her, and she knew he didn't deserve any hurt. She also watched the way her brother's fists shook with unleashed hurt, fury, or a combination of the two as he clenched them during his retelling of the failures of these sorry ass parents that John Carter had been given.

"When he gets out of the hospital, stop by, and I'll fix him a plate," Jackie told him. "Nobody should have to go home to take-out."

The hug Peter gave her on the way out was as tight as the one he gave her at Mama's funeral.

Walt haunted the doorway while Peter poured out his heart. After Peter left, Walt didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.

~*~

It was two years and two deaths after that fateful night that John Carter did in fact show up for Sunday dinner.

Now, Jackie didn't like being wrong, but a lot of years had passed since that Thanksgiving evening. John Carter was still very gangly and very … white and very … male, but he was no longer very young. And their family had shrunk enough by that point that Jackie could not see the point in shrinking it even further.

Then, of course, there was Peter.

Peter, who looked so damn happy with John Carter by his side that Jackie could almost forgive the fact that her little brother had fallen in love with a man who had never had collard greens in his life.

Their father would be scandalized.

But daddy wasn't here, and little Reese was. Little Reese who was no longer as little as he once was. Little Reese, who sat next to John Carter after dinner and signed excitedly to him, the same level of nonsense that Jackie's own children had, years before - including the one who will never attend another Sunday dinner again.

"What did I tell you?" Walt said, triumphantly, after the three of them had departed for the day. "Sunday dinners, Jackie. I called it. Years ago, I called it."

"Yes, you did," Jackie agreed. "Looks like you were right."

"You aren't gonna argue with me about it?" Walt asked in surprise.

"No," Jackie answered.

She was not, because while Jackie didn't usually like being wrong… every now and then… there were exceptions.

[bimbovicc]

hey girlie!!

1.

Your blog is so cuteee omggg (I know someone already said that but shhh)

and 2.

There was this funny trend back in like 2023, it was jjk x disney I don’t know if you recall or were in the fandom back then but I loved seeing the cute little dumb videos of people making up lore for the ships. So I was wondering if you could do a crossovers ship of Gojo x Elsa (I would’ve said Nanami and Tiana but Elsa and Gojo need love too) maybe you could make it like where switch!Gojo is just teasing Elsa, cause he is for sure a loud mouth in bed. Hes just making fun of her; talking about how pathetic she looks under him (he covered her face in kisses after like a pathetic loser, so honestly whos the pathetic one here?)

A couple of kinks could be overstimulation, and bondage (his blindfold). Setting could be in the bedroom (basic I know). I know how stupid this may sound but those ships were just too funny

# MELT FOR ME

Pairing: Gojo Satoru (Jujutsu Kaisen) x Elsa (Frozen)

Tags : Crossover, Switch!Gojo, Sub!Elsa, Bedroom setting, Bondage, Overstimulation, Verbal teasing, Power play, Cocky dom, Soft aftercare, Face kisses, Slight crying

a/n : hiii my lil lovie!! okay so like—omg I was SUCH a Jujutsu slut back in 2023, teehee!! I was sooo obsessed with princess x JJK crossovers, likeeee Sukuna x Cinderella?? HELLOOO?? anywayyy I’m sooo sorry this took me forever, I was working all day like a good lil busy bunny and I needed time to add that SPICEEEE ya know??? like messy, whimpering, blindfold bondage kinda spice wink wink sooo I hope you love it and scream and kick your feet and maybe get a lil dumb over it!! okay byeeee xoxo stay slutty princesses!!🩷🩷

She looked so proud at first.

Arms crossed over that pale blue nightgown, legs tight together, mouth pressed in a thin line—like she wasn’t seconds away from being wrecked. Like she didn’t already tremble beneath his gaze every time he so much as brushed a hand down her waist.

“Oh? What’s this little icy attitude?” Gojo cooed, already climbing over her on the mattress, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t look so uptight, your majesty. We’re just getting started.”

“I’m not uptight,” she snapped, but her breath hitched when he straddled her thighs, tugging off his blindfold and—fuck—using it to bind her wrists above her head.

“There. Now you look the part,” he murmured, tying a firm knot and pressing a kiss to her wrist. “So regal. So restrained. So helpless.” His grin widened. “You really think you’re gonna last tonight, snowflake?”

Her glare should’ve burned him. Instead, it made him throb.

Half an hour later, Elsa was a complete mess beneath him.

Legs twitching. Lips trembling. Her gown was pushed up to her waist, her thighs slick and sticky from the second orgasm that had barely ended before Gojo’s fingers were already right back at it—lazy strokes over her swollen clit that made her jolt.

“Sensitive already?” he taunted, nosing at her neck. “Wow. And here I thought ice queens had more stamina.”

Her hips jerked and he just laughed, smug and breathless as he watched her squirm.

“You should see your face right now, babe. You look so fucking pathetic.” His voice dipped low and sinful, licking at the edge of her ear. “Bet no one’s ever touched you like this, huh? Tied up in my bed with your legs shaking from just my fingers. Just imagine if I started using my mouth.”

“Don’t—Satoru—” Her voice cracked into a moan.

“Ohhh, you’re begging now? Shit, you’re adorable when you try to keep that royal composure. But guess what?” He curled his fingers just right and her entire body arched.

“You’re not ruling anything here. I am.”

When she finally came again—loud, needy, body clenching so hard around nothing—Gojo was beaming. Her wrists tugged at the blindfold restraints and her legs wouldn’t stop shaking, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

“Aw. Crying already? C’mon, you can take more than that. You’re the Snow Queen,” he teased, but his hands were already softer. Stroking her cheek. Wiping her tears. Kissing her jaw and then her neck and then—gently, sweetly—every inch of her ruined face.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured between kisses. “All messy and wrung out. My pretty little icicle.”

She tried to roll her eyes.

“You’re the pathetic one,” she mumbled, cheeks flushed. “Look at you. Kissing me all over like a lovesick fool.”

Gojo blinked. And grinned.

“Yeah, well. Can’t help it. You melt so beautifully for me.”