#and i mean that in the best way possible like i had a wonderful time drawing him using them

[pedroscurls]

secret crushes (pt. 2)

summary: you thought you would be leaving this trip with hugh, but the feelings he has for you is just too much that it scares him. so, you rely on ryan and blake, unsure of what to do next. pairing: ryan reynolds x fem!reader, blake lively x fem!reader, hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 6.8k warnings: this is pure filth y'all, smut (f/f, m/f, fingering, oral sex - f receiving), bit of angst but i promise there's a happy ending, unconventional throuple, no use of y/n. a/n: shout out to this anon and @celestiamour / @celestiaras for this idea! i'm definitely out of my comfort zone with this, but i just love this dynamic so much. i hope i did this justice - they're just all good looking people and how can you not be attracted to all of them??? this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to blake lively, ryan reynolds, and hugh jackman. prev. part

“He actually left,” Ryan says, entering your hotel room to see you leaning against Blake in the middle of your bed. The entire week was spent with Hugh and you both barely left each other’s side, but it wasn’t until last night where he admitted that he was scared. The potential of the possibility of committing himself to you scared him. He had just gotten out of a marriage with someone who he thought he would be with until the end of his days and he had originally agreed to go to Hawaii to figure things out. To decide whether he was ready or not to be with you, but he hadn’t expected you to be here too. 

“I thought he was supposed to be a nice guy,” you whisper, hands wringing on your lap. “We had such an amazing week and… He just said he needed time to think, needed some space.” 

Blake’s rubbing your back, her cheek resting on the crown of your head. “He’s newly divorced, babe.” Blake says softly. “Give him time.”

You sigh and lie back on the bed with Blake whose arms wrap around you. She brushes your hair away from your face as you snuggle against her. She and Ryan had always brought you just as much comfort as Hugh did. 

“I can’t believe you guys thought it would work,” you mumble, feeling the bed dip as you look over at Ryan who sits at the foot of the bed. 

“Well,” he shrugs. “It did.” 

“For a week, Ryan.”

“I bet the sex was good though,” he grins. You narrow your eyes and grab a pillow to toss it in his direction, seeing it hit his face. Then, he tosses the pillow back in your direction as he lies on the other side of you. “He’ll come around, trust me.”

“I trusted you and came here,” you say, gently hitting his chest. “And now look what happened.”

“Yeah, you had the best sex of your life for an entire week. You are welcome.” 

Blake lets out a quiet laugh and stands up from the bed, hands on her hips as she looks down at you and Ryan. “Get up. We’re here for another week. Let’s make the most of it.”

Ryan nods, gently nudging you and pinching your side. 

“Ryan!” 

“Come on, baby. Whatever Blake says, goes,” he winks. 

“You’re both so lucky that I love you both,” you groan, sitting up as you stand from the bed. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think about Blake and Ryan in a way other than friends. You had always been intrigued by Blake– her confidence was alluring, captivating, and her deep blue eyes always made you feel like you were the only one she saw. You wouldn’t tell Hugh or Ryan, but there was a brief moment where you and Blake shared a kiss on New Year’s Eve. 

And Ryan – well, you always imagined that the best way to shut him up was to just sit on his face. You were sure he’d devour you until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you wondered if he would talk during sex as much as he does now. 

Ryan comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight against him as Blake leans against the wall, biting her lower lip as she watches the both of you. 

“Well, it’s a good thing we love you too.” He grins, kissing your cheek. “Can you imagine if we didn’t? My god, you wouldn’t even be here with us right now.” 

Ryan’s arms are so strong around you, but all you can focus on is the look on Blake’s face. She’s staring directly into your eyes and while you can feel Ryan’s length press against your backside, you can’t help but want to walk towards Blake. 

“Babe,” Blake calls out to Ryan. “Take the kids to the beach?” 

Ryan nods, brushing his lips against the side of your neck before he pulls away. “Yeah, baby. Take care of her.”

“Wait, wait,” you say, looking between Ryan and Blake. “Are you guys– Is this…” you bite your lower lip. “I don’t want to get in the middle of this and–”

“You won’t,” they both say simultaneously. 

“We both want this. Do you?” Ryan asks, looking over at Blake and then back at you. 

“I do, yeah,” you mumble, surprising yourself. “I just don’t want things to change between us.” 

“If anything, it’ll make us stronger.” Blake smiles reassuringly and then walks over to you, bringing her soft hands to your cheeks as she leans down to capture your lips. You melt into her, hands resting on her hips as you slowly move your lips with hers. 

Ryan can’t help the tightness in the middle of his pants, his manhood pressing against the fabric almost uncomfortably. He watches Blake’s hands move from your cheeks down your back, pulling you flush against her front. She darts out her tongue to flick against you, your lips parting for her.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan calls out, clapping his hands together as you and Blake pull away from each other. You don’t look at Ryan and neither does she, both of your eyes staring into each other’s. 

“I’ll be leaving now,” Ryan says. 

“Okay, bye, babe,” Blake says, twirling a strand of your hair between her fingers. “See you tonight.”

“Bye, Ryan.” You grin, glancing over at him as your eyes move from top to bottom, noticing how his hand moves the center of his pants to squeeze himself. He finally leaves your room and leaves you and Blake standing in front of each other. 

“You know, Ryan and Hugh do know about our kiss.” Blake smiles, breaking the silence. 

“They do?” you ask, biting your lower lip. 

“Oh yeah. The look on their faces,” she says, brushing her thumb across your lower lip. “Is this okay? Ryan and I don’t do this, but you– You’re really something.” 

“Well, I’m extremely attracted to you and to Ryan,” you admit. “And Hugh, obviously.”

“Hugh’s gonna come around,” she reassures you. “In the meantime, wanna have some fun?”

You grin, “you did say to have fun on this trip and be open. I just–” you say quietly. “I’ve never been with another woman before. It’s always been something I’ve been curious about, but–”

Blake kisses your lips, gently nipping at your lower lip. “Oh, I’ll be your first?”

“And probably my last,” you answer. 

“Good, I like that.” Blake grins. “But before anything can happen, how about we go and grab some drinks?”

“I can’t believe this trip,” you laugh, grabbing your bag off the counter and following Blake out of your hotel room.

—

A couple of hours later and you and Blake are facing each other at the counter of the hotel bar. You’re dressed in a pair of denim cut-off shorts and a white tank-top while Blake is wearing a spaghetti strapped, loose white summer dress. You’ve both had a shot of tequila and two drinks each and as the hours pass, you become increasingly more comfortable with her as you anticipate what will happen once you bring her back to your hotel room. 

“So, tell me,” she says, looking at you from the rim of her glass. “Hugh? Is he…”

“A very generous lover,” you tease, winking in her direction. “I’m still hoping that the space he needs will give him clarity and I’m hoping that he sees how good this can be.”

“He will,” Blake says matter-of-factly. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, but me and Ryan do. He’ll come around.”

“For right now, though,” you begin, biting the tip of your straw. “Do you wanna head back up?” 

Blake grins. “Yeah, that sounds like a great plan.”

Once you and Blake both pay for the drinks you’ve bought, you lead her away from the bar and back to your hotel room. You’re still very aware of her high profile status, so if anyone were to have captured any candid photographs of the both of you, it would certainly look like two really good friends enjoying a drink together. Besides, she is still married.

As you get closer to your hotel room and there are less and less people passing by, Blake’s arm snakes around your waist. You lean back against her as you swipe your key card to open the door to your hotel room. Once inside, Blake then leans down to press soft kisses along your neck, turning you around in her arms. You drop your bag on the floor and stare into her eyes, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 

The gaze that she holds has you captivated. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as your mind focuses solely on Blake. You’re nervous, but she provides a sense of calm and reassurance that you need. 

Then, you both slowly lean into each other, lips beginning to part as mere inches separate your mouths. You can feel Blake’s hot breath against yours, the smell of liquor mixes between you and you’re the first to lean in further, brushing your lips against hers. 

Blake moves her hands to your waist and brings you flush against her as she presses her lips firmly against your own. It intensifies within seconds, whimpers and moans bouncing off the walls, tongue grazing each other, teeth nipping and biting at lower lips. 

You walk backwards with Blake leading you until the back of your knees touch your bed. Slowly, you lie back down and bring Blake atop of you, your legs spreading apart for her to settle between them. Blake’s lips are so soft, so smooth as she moves her lips from your own to graze along your jawline. Her hands move to the button of your shorts, undoing it quickly as she begins to unzip. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of her teeth grazing your skin at your neck, brushing against one of your many hot spots. You feel the wetness begin to pool between your legs, staining your panties and you reach down to push your shorts off your legs. 

Blake has to pull away, leaning back on her knees as she grabs the ends of her dress to lift over her head. She’s kneeling in front of you in a pair of white lace panties and bra. You lick your lower lip, grabbing your own tank top to lift over your head as you toss it to the side. 

Blake’s eyes darken with desire, realizing that you hadn’t worn a bra with your white tank top. Your chest is exposed for her and without hesitation, she leans down to pepper kisses along your chest, moving her lips closer to your peak. When her soft lips wrap around your nipple, you arch your back up into her, hand moving to rest on her shoulder. 

She then moves her focus onto your other breast as you reach up to undo her bra. You watch it fall from her frame and immediately, you gasp at the sight of her exposed front. Blake then begins to place light kisses up your chest until her lips hover above yours. Your chests press against one another and you feel Blake reach down to run her fingers across your throbbing heat, your panties completely soaked.

“I’m just as wet,” Blake whispers, pushing your panties to the side to run a finger across your folds. 

A shiver runs down your back as you part your legs even further for her, rolling your hips anxiously. Blake smiles to herself, her own heat throbbing in anticipation. From the moment Blake met you, she had always been so attracted to you. Your work ethic, your dedication, your kindness… She always felt drawn to you. 

You reach between your bodies and gently tug on her panties, feeling her wiggle them free from her legs as she hovers above you completely exposed. You slowly roll her onto her back, biting your lower lip at the sight of her. You pull your own panties off and then reach between her legs, slowly sliding a finger past her folds. 

It excites you, knowing that you’re making Blake feel this way. You watch as she rolls her eyes shut, biting her lower lip as a quiet whimper escapes her. You lean down, pressing soft kisses along her jawline as you begin to pump your finger in and out of her, slowly sliding in a second one. 

Before you can even continue and bring Blake closer to the edge, she pulls your hand away. She’s about to say something, but is ultimately left speechless when she sees you bring your fingers to your mouth and suck the remnants of her off. 

“Wow, you’re naughty,” she grins. Then, Blake pulls you down and gently moves you to rest on your abdomen. You’re about to turn over on your back, but she instead lies on her side next to you, reaching down to spread your legs. You rest your cheek against the mattress, lifting one leg up against the bed, opening yourself up for her. “I would have never guessed,” she says, moving one hand down to run along your back and down to your backside, giving it a tight squeeze. 

Blake then reaches between your legs and slides two fingers in without warning. You push back against her, a loud moan escaping your lips as she wastes no time in beginning to pump her fingers in and out of your depths. You’re so wet that the sounds of squelching echo off the walls. She rests her lips against the back of your shoulder, using her other hand to wrap around you and reach down to grasp your breast, massaging it into the pit of her palm.

She can feel you getting close. You’re squirming against her, trying to break free from the sensation because she knows that when you reach your high, you’re going to shake and tremble against her. So, Blake keeps a tight hold on you, gently biting down on the back of your shoulder as she pulls her fingers out of you and rolls you onto your back. Without waiting for you to catch your breath, she brings her hand back down and rubs your clit so fast that your hand shoots out to hold onto her wrist. 

“Oh, you’re almost there,” she grins. Your free hand grips the sheets of the mattress, knuckles turning white from the tight grip as your back begins to arch in the air, toes curling at the sensation.

“Blake,” you whimper. “Oh god, Blake!” As you begin to reach your high, Blake then thrusts two fingers back inside of you, pumping them in and out at a fast pace to allow you to ride out your orgasm. 

After a few seconds, Blake lies back down next to you and brings her fingers to her lips to suck off your release. She grins in your direction, seeing your chest heave up and down as you try to catch your breath. She then reaches for her phone and snaps a picture of the both of you. The photo isn’t revealing much– it’s just a photo of the both of you obviously lying down in bed, hair messy against the white sheets as you look completely fucked. You look so spent, so satisfied and your lower lip is caught between your teeth when she takes the picture. It’s very obvious that you two were having sex, completely naked, the frame stopping just a bit past each of your collarbones. 

You hear a quiet whoosh sound and look at her. “Did you just send that to–” Then, your phone vibrates and you reach for it on the nightstand. A few more vibrations come through and you hear her quietly whisper, shit. 

Furrowing a brow, you look down at your phone and widen your eyes. “You sent that to our group chat?! With Hugh?! Blake!” 

It’s a group chat with you, Blake, Ryan, and Hugh. Ryan loved the photograph and sent a snarky remark, but Hugh… All Hugh said was Damn. 

You toss your phone to the side and then climb on top of Blake, looking down at her. “I can’t believe you just did that.” 

“Hey,” she grins, hands resting on your hips. “As much as I enjoyed this – and we aren’t even yet done – Hugh’s the person for you… and he’s gonna certainly regret leaving you the way he did.”

You roll your eyes and lean down to peck her lips. “You’re insane,” you chuckle.

Blake shrugs, “Maybe, but you love me.”

“I do,” you chuckle, moving your lips to her jawline. “And I’m gonna show you just how much I do.” Then, you lower yourself even further until you're at eye level with her heat, leaning in instantly to lick a stripe across her folds. Oh, the night was only just beginning.

—

After a couple of days since sleeping with Blake, Ryan decides to take you out. You’re feeling a lot better since Hugh left and you had Blake and Ryan to thank. After that picture that Blake sent to the group chat, Hugh had only reached out to you once. He didn’t say much or didn’t give any indication that he had made up his mind of what he wanted, but it was enough for you. 

HUGH: I’ll see you when you get back to New York. 

One simple text unnerved you. You were excited, but nervous. Hopeful, but anxious. At least it gave you peace of mind that you would at least have a conversation with him. 

You only had a few more days left in Hawaii, so Ryan had something special planned. He didn’t say exactly what, but he did say to wear a bathing suit. So, you’re dressed in a yellow floral two-piece. Similarly to the same bikini that you wore when you saw Hugh for the first time since the trip, you tie the knots of your bottom, letting it rest on your hips as you tie your bikini top at the base of your neck and back. 

You slip on an oversized white t-shirt and grab your bag, stepping out of your hotel room to see Ryan at the end of the hall. He’s dressed in a white tank-top and light blue board shorts, paired with a baseball cap and his sunglasses hooked on his tank top. You approach him and smile, wrapping your arms around his large frame. 

“Hey, naughty girl,” he teases with a wink, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple. “I heard amazing things.”

You roll your eyes and gently slap his chest, feeling him reach for your hand to pull you against his side as he leads you back towards the elevators. “Not even a hi, good morning, how are you doing today? from you, huh?”

Ryan scoffs. “Not a chance.” He lets out a quiet laugh and then enters the elevator with you, pressing the button to the lobby as he looks at you. “But fine, hi, good morning. How are you doing today?”

You laugh with him and shake your head. “I’m okay. Hugh texted me last night.” 

Ryan’s arms cross over his chest and you notice the muscles at his arms. You bite your lower lip and then catch his gaze, a knowing smirk on his lips. “And what did our dear friend Hughie say?” 

“He said he’d see me when I get back to New York.”

“Ominous,” Ryan points out, leading you out of the elevators and towards the lobby where a car was waiting for the both of you. 

“You’re such a bad liar,” you repeat. “You already know he texted me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Ryan shrugs. “But maybe not.”

“You two are best friends. I’m sure you guys talk about everything.”

Ryan smirks. “Oh, we were definitely talking about that picture though.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you climb into the car with him. He tells the driver the beach that he was going to take you to and leans back in his seat, looking over at you. 

“Blake had nothing but great things to say,” he tells you. “Did you have fun? Did you like it?”

You arch a brow in his direction and nod. “I’d do it all over again.”

Ryan clears his throat, feeling his manhood stir awake as he thinks back to what Blake said about her time with you and the picture that she sent of you both in bed. He knew he liked you the minute he realized you could keep up with him. It’s also surprising at how good you can put him in his place. 

“Mm, I’d like to see that.” 

You bite your lower lip and then look up at him. “Maybe you can,” you wink teasingly. 

“No way,” he says quietly. “Really?”

A quiet silence engulfs the two of you as Ryan waits patiently for you to answer. Then, he sees you let out a quiet giggle as he reaches out to poke your side. 

“You little tease!” 

“What me and Blake do behind closed doors will only be for me and Blake’s eyes.” 

“Fine,” he says. “But at least I’ll get to have my own way with you,” Ryan whispers in your direction, seeing you lick your lower lip in anticipation.

“You’ll have to work for it,” you wink. 

“Did you give this much of a hard time for Hugh? Or is it just me?”

“Just you,” you grin. “But I do have something in mind.” 

Ryan sighs dramatically and leans against your side, looking up at you as he bats his eyelashes in your direction. “Care to share?”

“No, where’s the fun in that?” 

Ryan shakes his head and sits back up, arm draping around your shoulders. “Fine, fine. You’re worth the wait.”

Your cheeks heat up and you lean into him, shutting your eyes. You’re grateful for Blake and Ryan because they are taking your mind off Hugh and you aren’t sure where this will leave you, but you’re trying to just live in the moment. You know that you’ll be a bundle of nerves when you’re heading back to New York, anxious of the conversation that you and Hugh will have. 

“Ryan?” you ask, feeling his hand gently run along your arm. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you and Blake are okay with this?” 

Ryan hooks a finger under your chin to look up at him, his deep brown eyes staring into yours. “It’s more than okay,” he reassures you. “Even if it’s just a one time thing. We’re always gonna be here for you. No matter what.” 

You sigh contentedly and then lean back into his side. “What are we doing today?”

“Paddleboarding. Private beach. Just you and me.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna put me through a workout?” 

Ryan smirks. “Maybe afterwards.”

“If anyone’s gonna be put through a workout, Ryan, it’s gonna be you.” you wink, feeling the car stop. 

Ryan chuckles and undoes his seat belt. “Blake was right. You are naughty.” 

He climbs out of the car and walks around to your side, helping you out with a gentle hand. You climb out and stumble over your feet, falling into his chest as you look up at him, biting your lower lip as you bat your eyelashes up at him innocently. 

“Oh, don’t give me that look. We all know that you’re far from innocent,” Ryan points out, one hand resting on your waist. “Come on. Let’s at least do something that I planned.” 

You chuckle and then gently push him away, closing the car door behind you as you follow Ryan to the beach where two paddleboards are resting on the sand. The waves are calm, which should make it a bit easier. You pull off your oversized shirt and then begin reapplying sunscreen on your body, seeing Ryan’s eyes focused solely on you. He clears his throat and removes his shirt, dropping his eyes momentarily to the boards. 

“Ryan, can you get my back?” you ask, turning your back to him as you hold up your sunscreen and move your hair off to the side. 

Ryan steps up to you and takes the sunscreen, spraying it along your back as his large hands move to spread it around evenly. His front hovers dangerously close to your backside and it isn’t until you push back against him that he lets out a quiet groan. 

“We’re not gonna end up in the water if you keep doing that,” Ryan threatens playfully, moving his hands to your hips and gently giving them a squeeze. “We can always skip it and you know, move to something else.”

“Nope,” you smile, turning around to look up at him. “Let’s at least get wet.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t yet?” he winks. 

“Why don’t you check?”

Ryan bites his lower lip and reaches down between you, large hand moving into the bottom of your bikini as he drags the tip of his finger across your folders, eyes staring deeply into yours. 

“Oh,” he whispers. “Oh.” 

You lean up and run your fingertips across his chest, hands resting on his shoulders as your eyes flutter when he continues to run his finger across the length of your sex, feeling your wetness begin to pool between your legs. 

“Are you sure,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to just take this…”

“I’m sure,” you interrupt him, taking his wrist and gently pulling his hand away. You then lean up to wrap your mouth around his finger, swirling your tongue as you taste yourself. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Come on then or else I’m gonna take you on the sand.” 

“Wouldn’t be my first time on the beach,” you wink, taking your paddleboard and following him into the water.

Ryan knows that you and Hugh had sex on the beach last week. He didn’t have to even ask Hugh because his face said it all – and the marks you left along his body too. 

You and Ryan spend the next thirty minutes on the paddleboards and it calms you, even though Ryan wouldn’t stop making you laugh. It isn’t until you lose your balance that you fall into the water. When you come up and lean over your paddleboard, you see Ryan who is laughing hysterically at you. 

“Not funny!” you exclaim, moving back onto your paddleboard and lying on your back, chest heaving up and down as you shut your eyes. “I don’t have core strength like you.”

Ryan subconsciously flexes and lets his eyes rake over your frame, feeling the center of his board shorts tighten. “I mean, it was kind of funny.” 

He then jumps into the water, swimming over to you. He gently takes your paddleboard with you lying atop of it closer to him, moving one hand down your abdomen. 

“What?” you ask quietly, biting your lower lip as you look over at him. 

“Wanna head back?” Ryan asks, his voice deep and laced with desire and want. 

“Only if you say sorry,” you smirk.

“Fine,” he huffs. “I’m sorry, though, you look good all wet and–”

You then jump into the water with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs snake around his waist. His hands move to link at your lower back, forehead resting against yours. 

“You never shut up, do you?” you whisper, lips brushing against his. 

“Never,” Ryan grins. Then, he leans in to press his lips against yours. He wastes no time in gripping your backside roughly, forcing your hips to move and roll against his growing erection. You gasp against his lips, which Ryan then takes advantage by sliding his tongue past your lips. When he releases his hold on your backside, you continue to roll your hips, yearning for more friction as you feel your walls begin to throb anxiously. 

“How about I make you?” you finally say, pulling away from him. 

“And how’s that? You gonna sit on my face?” 

You bite your lower lip, looking into his eyes as the silence engulfs you. You notice his eyes begin to widen when he realizes just exactly what you had planned and without waiting for you to respond, he begins swimming back to shore with you trailing behind. Once the water reaches your shins, Ryan takes your hand and pulls you fully out of the water with him. 

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder. Ryan takes you to a shaded area covered by trees and then lies back on the sand, not bothered by the fact that your bodies were still completely wet from the ocean. He takes you down with him, motioning for you to hover over his lips. 

“Ryan, wait,” you whisper, hands moving down to rest on the sand above his head. “I was just– We’re at the beach.”

“Thought you already had sex on the beach,” Ryan says, gazing up at you. “And I thought you wanted to shut me up. This is the only way how.” 

Your eyes narrow and then kneel at either side of him, your core hovering inches above his lips. You then undo the knots at your bikini and take it off from your body, letting it rest on the side as you feel Ryan’s hot breath against your core. He reaches up to run his thumb across the length of your sex before resting on your clit, applying firm pressure as he slowly moves the pad of his thumb in circles. 

You bite your lower lip, letting out a quiet moan. He doesn’t waste any time before he moves his lips to your core, licking a stripe along the length of your sex. You tremble against him, hands curling into fists in the sand as you slowly roll your hips against his mouth, feeling his tongue where you need him the most. 

“Mmm, goddamn,” he mumbles against you, arms hooking underneath your legs as his hands move to rest on your hips. He holds you still against him as he begins sucking at your clit, darting his tongue out to flick against your bundle of nerves. He can feel you shake against him and Ryan holds you firmly against him. He knows you want to move away, knows that the sensations are becoming too much. He then moves his hand between your legs, sliding one finger past your folds as he slowly pumps it in and out of you, tongue moving in circles around your clit. 

“Oh god,” you moan aloud, head tilting back as you bring a hand up to his hair, gripping it in a tight hold. Sand gets into his hair, but you can’t help yourself. Ryan knew just exactly what he was doing, his tongue and finger moving in time with each other. 

Then, he slides in another finger, the sounds of your wetness and his lapping it up with his mouth sounds almost filthy, paired with the backdrop of the waves clashing with each other. Your body begins to quiver, knowing that you’re about to reach your high because your walls slowly begin to tighten. 

Ryan doesn’t let up. He only pulls away to catch his breath before his mouth is back on your core. Fingers move at a faster pace, tongue firmly pressed against your clit as he moves his head in circles. 

“Ry– Ryan!” you moan aloud, pressing firmly onto him as your walls clench around his fingers, wetness pooling between your legs and down his chest. 

Ryan laps at your juices like a starved man, licking you clean as he pulls his fingers out of you. He sits up and pulls you down onto his lap, watching as your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath. You look down at him, his chin glistening with your slickness and a smirk lining his lips. 

“You taste fucking good, you know that?” he grins, licking his lips as his manhood presses firmly against the fabric of his shorts. “But if I’m gonna fuck you, I want to do it on a bed.” 

That sends shivers down your back as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, nodding in agreement. “Take me back to the hotel then, Ryan.”

“Only if you admit how good that was,” he smirks proudly.

“Oh, it was amazing,” you reply. “Not only because you shut up, but because you definitely know what you’re doing.”

“And we still have the rest of the night,” he winks. 

—

It’s the last day in Hawaii and you’re packed and ready to go. The rest of the trip was a dream. You were truly spent after an eventful two weeks. You don’t remember having so much sex before Hugh, before Blake, and before Ryan. You crave more of it though. Crave more of it with each of them individually. 

And even when you’re in the plan with Blake and Ryan, they don’t make things awkward. It’s like nothing has changed except for the lingering stares, the soft touches. Their kids are fast asleep and you’re sitting across from them, eyes darted out the window. 

It isn’t until Ryan speaks first that you turn your attention to them both.

“So,” he says, leaning forward. “Blake and I want to just tell you how amazing this trip has been. This last week, especially.”

Blake nods in agreement, flashing you a smile. “And we also want to tell you that we’re always going to be here,” she adds. “In whatever way you need or want.” 

“And it won’t mess with our friendship? Your marriage?” you ask hesitantly, biting your lower lip. 

Blake and Ryan shake their heads simultaneously. “If anything, I think it’ll just make us stronger,” Ryan points out.

Blake agrees. “You just bring something… Animalistic out of us.”

You smile shyly, biting your lower lip. “These last two weeks have been a dream,” you admit. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back to work and the real world after that.” 

“Well, our door is always open,” Ryan winks. 

“But I bet you’re ready to see Hugh,” Blake comments. 

“I’m nervous, but yeah. I’m ready to see him.” You reply, reaching out to rest your hands on each of theirs. Ryan and Blake had not only given you peace of mind, but memories that you would cherish forever. “I love you guys.” 

Ryan smiles and pecks your lips. Blake does the same, lingering as she pulls away. 

“We love you too.” 

—

Back in New York, you’re already deep in your work. It had been a full week since coming back from your trip and while you still regularly spoke with Blake and Ryan, even going so far as to spending the night with them, you still have yet to hear from Hugh. 

—

Hugh, Ryan, and Blake are walking, hearing the sounds of cameras going off as they pay no attention to the paparazzi. They’re making their way to your coffee shop, dressed so casually and completely different from what they had been wearing while in Hawaii. 

“Wait, wait, so you two–” Hugh says, looking down at Blake and then over at Ryan. 

Blake nods. “Ryan too.”

Hugh’s eyes widen, feeling jealousy settle in the pit of his stomach as he looks over at his best friend. “You and–”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan grins. “She’s only got eyes for you, which, by the way–” he says. “Dick move leaving her in Hawaii.”

“I needed time to think, mate.” Hugh says, shrugging a shoulder. “And you should have warned me that you had invited her.”

Blake gently nudges Hugh’s shoulder, arms crossed over his chest as they continue walk down the street. “By the way, was she naughty with you too?” Blake asks, biting her lower lip. “I mean, she’s just so innocent looking and then behind closed doors, it’s just the complete opposite.”

“Oh, I know!” Ryan chuckles. “I mean, she shut me up by riding my face–”

“Okay, okay,” Hugh says, shaking his head. “She does like to be dominant in bed,” he answers. “It’s quite hot, really.” Then, he points at Ryan and grins. “She rode my face too, but it’s not a competition, so…” 

Blake looks between the two and lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, but I think I win. I’m not gonna tell you exactly what we did, but I will give you a number.”

“A number?” Hugh and Ryan ask, approaching your coffee shop.

Blake nods. “69.” Then, she steps inside and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. Hugh and Ryan look at each other with wide eyes before they both step inside, watching as Blake’s hands run along your back and your face buried against the side of her neck.

“I just told the boys what we did,” Blake whispers, pulling away to look down at you. 

“Is that why they look like that?” you point out, looking over at Ryan and Hugh who both have slightly wide eyes and a shocked expression. 

Blake turns around and wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning against your side as you both erupt into a fit of giggles. “Yeah,” she laughs. “That’s exactly why they look like that.” 

You shake your head with a smile and then look over at Hugh, eyes locking with his. You’re instantly aware of all the moments you shared in Hawaii, the deep conversations, the laughter, the sex… You wonder if he’s thinking the same thing and you have to let out a quiet laugh when you see Ryan gently nudge him forward. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Blake says, kissing your cheek. “If you need anything, babe, just let us know.” 

You nod and then walk towards Hugh, meeting him in the middle of your coffee shop. 

“Hi,” you say quietly. 

“Hey, baby.” Hugh responds. “Can we go talk?” 

You nod and lead him to your office in the back. His hand rests lightly on your lower back, following you to your office. When you step inside with him, he shuts the door and takes a seat, pulling you gently down next to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

You don’t respond. You don’t even look at him because you know that if you do, you’re going to lose your resolve and give into him. 

“I just needed time to think and I couldn’t do that with you there,” Hugh admits. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want this,” he corrects himself.

“You left me in Hawaii,” you finally say. “After an amazing week with each other, you left. Don’t you think I had things to figure out too? That maybe I also needed time to think?” 

Hugh sighs. “It was selfish of me, and I’m sorry. I just got scared because I know what will happen if I give this my all. It’s just who I am. If you’re with me, I’m making you a priority.” he bites his lower lip, gently taking your hand in his. “If you’ll have me–”

“Of course I want you, Hugh,” you interrupt him. “I’ve wanted you for months now. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that I want to give it a chance. I want to try.” 

Hugh breaks out into a small smile and then pulls you onto his lap, lips hovering against yours. “Me too, baby.” Then, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a different type of kiss than what you’re used to. It’s not filled with an urgency to rip each other’s clothes off. Instead, it’s slow and soft – like it’s the first time he’s kissing you, memorizing every inch of your lips. 

You have to pull away, remembering that you’re still on the job. You look deeply into his eyes and rest your forehead against his. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the room, just gazing into each other’s eyes as an unspoken excitement engulfs the both of you. 

“So, Blake and Ryan, huh?” he says, breaking the moment with a smirk.

You blush and nod slowly, pulling away to look at him. “They were there for me.”

“Good,” Hugh says. “That photograph of you and Blake though…” he growls lowly. “I think you’ll have to tell me one day all the things you both did that night.”

“I can give you a number,” you repeat teasingly. 

Hugh smirks, standing to place you on the edge of your desk. “Maybe you and me will have to give that a try,” he says, standing between your legs. “What do you say?”

“Oh, I’d say yes please.” 

Hugh grins and then presses his lips back against your own. You know that this this only the beginning of a beautiful relationship with him.

On the other side of the door, Blake and Ryan are eavesdropping, a grin lining their lips as they lean against one another. “We did it,” he whispers. 

“We did,” Blake smiles proudly.

[vickyvicarious]

Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the house.

Joining the ranks of the blood- and sleep-deprived, Quincey Morris!

As always, I love the way he jumps right into taking action. He's reminded of vampire bats, he thinks the blood must go somewhere... so he patrols to keep an eye out for vampires, bats, people who are taking blood, whatever. Doing his best to guard her.

I do wonder about how much blood each man has given, though. It kind of feels like increasingly less, at least based on their activity levels afterward. Part of that may be due to circumstance; Arthur could afford to give more because he didn't have any urgent need to be doing anything else. Both Jack and Van Helsing had to be able to stay awake afterwards. And it's possible they are just getting more reckless with their own behavior as we go down the line. But still, Quincey being able to patrol around all night is a step up from resting first here and then at home (Art), resting for a while then going back to more sedentary work (Jack), resting for a bit then staying up at night sitting still (Van Helsing). He still gets some rest first, but then he is up and about and sleep-deprived. I don't feel like we can put all of that down to his manliness, royal lot of it or no.

A part of me wonders if Van Helsing saw that it wasn't going to be enough to save her, and cut off the flow a little earlier. Like, Quincey definitely still gave a lot, but maybe not as much as they'd otherwise have taken? Thinking of this line in particular: "Lucy had got a terrible shock and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasions."

Perhaps Van Helsing just wanted to ensure that she didn't die right then of blood loss, because he believed that would mean she'd turn into a vampire. He's clearly doing his utmost to save her when he can, of course... but also, earlier that day, he told Jack ""If [death] were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let her fade away into peace, for I see no light in life over her horizon.""

So it's possible that at this point he expected her to die no matter what, and just took the minimum amount of blood to hopefully ensure it is a human death. The possibility that one type of death will lead to vampirisim and another will simply be a human death certainly could be supported in today's entry:

At times she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, between sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although more haggard, and her breathing was softer; her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which thus looked positively longer and sharper than usual; when she woke the softness of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dying one.

The difference seems to be between sleeping and waking here. But maybe that's only possible thanks to Quincey's blood in her. Or maybe it always would have been, but without Quincey's blood, she wouldn't have regained the strength necessary to wake up in the first place, let alone die awake/in a more human state.

[pigeonsage]

The color palette art you've done are so pretty! Are requests still open? If yes, I'd love to see Ai in 231. Thank you in advance!

Tysm!!!!

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[arolesbianism]

Y'know I know I've said like a billion times I don't want to know shit abt Jackie's past but erm. Hi klei. Please just tell me if Josephine and Alan are her parents or some miscellaneous relative this is so important. Did Jackie seriously come from a household with a colonel and another person with a doctorate or does she just happen to be related to them this is so important for how I decide to move forward with my Jackie hcs and with my aus in general I need to know so bad tell me right fucking now

[kentopedia]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[yzzart]

YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.206!

Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.

Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?

But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.

Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.

At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.

He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.

Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.

That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.

The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.

“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.

Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.

“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"

Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.

Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.

“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.

��Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.

“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.

A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.

When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.

Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.

"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.

Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.

Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.

You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.

“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”

Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.

“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[hannieehaee]

LIKE YOU DO

18+ / mdi

summary: when your brother's best friend suddenly reveals his newfound crush on you, you find yourself at a crossroads, thinking back to your own unrequited crush on him from back in middle school, making you wonder if you should be the better person and give him a chance.

content: brother'sbestfriend!seungcheol, frienemies-ish to lovers, reader is jeonghan's adoptive sister of his same age, mentions of previous unrequited crush, lots of unserious banter, afab reader, they're both inexperienced, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 7.8k

a/n: this one was kinda short sorry T-T i rlly enjoyed the concept though so it was fun to write! hope u guys enjoy!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Jeonghan?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does Seungcheol keep showing up during my breaks to bring me coffee?"

"Oh. He's trying to break you down so he can ask you out," He responded in the most nonchalant way possible.

"What? Since when does Seungcheol even like me?"

"Are you kidding? he's had a huge crush on you since we were seventeen."

"Dude, what? Where the hell was that attitude back in middle school when I was following him around like a fucking loser?", you grumbled at the memory of your former unrequited crush.

It was pathetic to think about, but it was true. You had sadly had a tendency to follow your brother and his friend around during the majority of your tweens and teens, always carrying the false hope that Seungcheol would one day look your way. As expected, he never even so much as glanced at you during that period of your life.

It's not like you could blame him. You were just a few years behind the rest of the herd when it came to puberty, you were still donning braces and also had a less than favorable sense of style. By all means, you were a bit of a loser up until turning 16. However, it was still sad to know that the guy of your dreams simply saw you as a nuance he had to deal with in exchange for being able to hang out with your brother.

Except that had been well over two years ago (give or take). By the time you were 16 and a junior in high school, you were confidently over your crush. You had stopped following him around by the time you entered the second half of your teens, but your crush would still occasionally show remnants of itself any time he was around (which was often, as he and Jeonghan were practically attached to the hip). However, it was far more lowkey than before and eventually died down altogether. You were long past those awkward years of tweenhood and now had a developed sense of style, along with an air of confidence you now carried with you. Puberty hit you all at once and your entire persona changed along with it. You had an established group of friends and were even a bit popular, no longer needing to hang around Jeonghan and Seungcheol just for a glimpse of the boy's attention. By the time you were 16, you were over Choi Seungcheol.

This carried over to the last two years of high school, now with a completely different dynamic between you and your former crush. Despite attending the same grades at the same time, you did not belong to the same social circles, so you would not see each other too often. However, since your brother (and brother's best friend) continued to attend the same school as you those last two years of high school, you still bumped into Cheol from time to time, specially whenever Jeonghan would bring him over.

Over the years, Seungcheol came to see you as less of a nuance and more of a friend. After turning 16 (upon your glow up and the dissipation of your crush), he would engage in casual conversation with you. He would even seek you out on his own at times, though you were never too enthusiastic about these meetings. Middle school you would've been elated at such development, but you didn't think much of it after having gotten over your crush, now bitter over how it had all played out so fruitlessly for you.

After having gotten over your crush, you came to resent Seungcheol a bit, now realizing the way he used to sometimes take advantage of your crush to get you to be his lackey and how he would even make you the butt of jokes among his friend group (whenever your brother wasn't around, of course). During the years in which you were infatuated with him, you truly believed it was just some sort of inside joke between the two of you; a 'will they, won't they' type of dynamic. However, upon leaving that childish phase of your life, you began to look back at it in embarrassment. After that, you distanced yourself from him. During ages 16 and up, you would even come to avoid him, something which Jeonghan thankfully never commented on despite having also been aware of your former crush.

And now. Now you were being made privy to the fact that Seungcheol had apparently begun to return your crush only a little over a year after you got over yours. At seventeen, Jeonghan said. That's the year you like to believe you truly got your act together. After your glow up at 16 years of age (appearance and personality-wise), you began to engage in new hobbies, new friend groups, and overall went through a full transformation of your former loser self (or at least that's how Seungcheol had made you feel all those years). You had put all relationship related interests aside since your catastrophic crush on Seungcheol left you high and dry. After graduating, you even left the country for a few months, deciding to start college a semester after your brother to explore the world a bit in order to find yourself before starting school back up again.

That period of time proved very useful to you. You mingled in the arts of casual dating in your absence (something which you had never done thanks to your irremovable crush), made friends, took up new interests, and most of all, grew out of any remnants of your former feelings for Seungcheol.

Except that all came crumbling down the moment you came back, suitcase in hand, and found Seungcheol at the door of your brother's apartment upon your arrival for your move-in day with your brother, which now seemed to include Seungcheol in the equation.

You had been less than elated when your brother suddenly informed you that instead of solely moving in with him in order to begin attending his university, you would now be sharing the apartment with an unwanted guest – Seungcheol. This had been the first time you saw him again after graduating, which had also been your last day to see anyone for the past six months over the duration of your trip.

Since your brother had begun attending school while you took a sabbatical from education, he had found himself an apartment so you would have a place to move into upon your return. The agreement had been for the two of you to be the sole habitants, until Seungcheol suddenly decided to attend the same university as you and your brother, promptly moving in with Jeonghan in your absence. It seemed like that had been the original plan, one which died when Seungcheol simply decided to stay, moving his things out what was supposed to be your room and moving them into what then became a shared room between him and Jeonghan.

This was when you first began to have suspicions about Seungcheol.

Although your crush had died down about two years back, you still felt awkward in his presence. His existence was a constant reminder of his consistent rejection of your feelings, something which had not helped your confidence much in the past. But it now seemed like Seungcheol had been the one seeking you out more than the other way around. Even back when you were saying your goodbyes before leaving on your vacation, Seungcheol had seemed even more disappointed at your prolonged absence than your own brother. You hadn't thought much of it at the time, except that this behavior kept up as the two of you became roommates.

Seungcheol would now walk you to class whenever possible, even when it meant going out of his way. He would lend you notes from the classes he had taken the prior semester; ones which you were currently having to take. He would show up between your classes with either drink or food in hand. He'd stop by your workplace at the school's cafe whenever he had down time. He'd stare down any guy that would try and interact with you in any of these instances. You were completely casual about it, trying to not read too much into it, but the worst thing about it all was that you liked it. You liked the attention he was finally giving you.

Though you were suspicious about Seungcheol's intentions, you had never considered the possibility of Seungcheol actually liking you romantically until your brother had so casually informed you just now. Even through your immediate complaint about it, your heart sped up at the thought. Your mind went back to every single memory of your own crush on him, thinking back to every single thing you used to like about him. Up until the moment in which Jeonghan called your attention once more, having answered your question but receiving no response from you due to the extended internal monologue you had gone through due to the sudden revelation.

"Sorry, what did you say?", you finally responded.

He chuckled at your absent-mindedness, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. "I said that your crush was just puppy love. He can't help that he didn't return your feelings at the time. It's been like what, three years since you got over him? Are you really still mad about it?", replied Jeonghan as he nudged you to eat the muffin he had bought you over twenty minutes ago.

Puppy love? It sure didn't feel like it during all those years in which you pined over him. But maybe Jeonghan was right. Maybe it had simply been interpreted as a harmless crush by both Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Except this did not justify every single remembrance of Seungcheol's constant dismissal and mockery of your feelings through the years, only ever looking your way once you were finally over him.

You took a deep breath, deciding to try and be rational in your response, "He mocked me over my crush for years, Jeonghan. He made me the butt of every joke and took advantage of how into him I was for his own entertainment. He only ever started respecting me when I changed my appearance and personality completely. Why should I even consider giving him a chance?"

"Hey, I'm not telling you to do that. Just keep an open mind, okay? We were kids. I'm sure he meant it all in good fun. You know he can be kind of an idiot at times," he took a pinch of the untouched muffin in front of you, "Is there no part of you that maybe still likes him?"

"Did you come to my workplace to harass me into dating your best friend?", you snatched the muffin away – the muffin he had 'bought' despite getting a discount due to your position as a barista, "I'm not the same loser I was in middle school, I have options."

"Oh, yeah?", he smirked, "Then how come you've never had a boyfriend?"

"I'm only 19, it's not like I've dedicated my entire life to celibacy. If I wanted one I could get one. Easy," you argued, "Are you gonna leave any time soon? I need to get back to work," you began to gather his and your cup to head back to your work duties.

"There's literally no one here," he whined, "And stop dodging my questions. Do you like him? Do you want a relationship or not?", he pushed, "I'm your brother, you're supposed to trust me with this type of stuff."

"Adoptive brother," you corrected as you wiped the table Jeonghan was still sitting at.

"Don't say that. I hate it when you say that," he whined.

"You know what? You're right," you decided, halting your movements.

"I am?"

"Yeah. I should get a boyfriend."

"Oh. You mean someone who isn't Seungcheol, don't you?", he sighed.

"Of course. I'm not just gonna come crawling back to him just because he decided he likes me now. And you're right. Now that I'm over my crush and I'm back home, I should get a boyfriend. Maybe that'll get Cheol off of me," you declared.

"So it is about Cheol then."

"Jeonghan, shut up!"

Things changed for you after that conversation. Or at least the way you looked at Seungcheol shifted.

While you had questioned why he would suddenly begin showing up as frequently as he did, showing genuine interest in your company, you had not once entertained the thought of him liking you. Jeonghan informing you of his crush in such a nonchalant way also made you realize that Seungcheol had been quite obvious about his sudden liking to you, always becoming standoffish when other guys were around and even carrying your backpack for you.

The thought of him liking you pleased you. Even if you wanted to be in denial about it, your crush finally being reciprocated was something you had given hope on back when you were about 15. However, knowing that Seungcheol only started seeing you in a non platonic way after your feelings had finally dissipated also annoyed you beyond belief. How was it fair? He got to tease you and treat you as if you were nothing but a nuance for years, only to turn around a few years later and decide he wanted you? You weren't about to stand for it.

You meant it when you told Jeonghan that you would consider entering the dating scene.

For years, you hoped Seungcheol would eventually like you back, so you never even as much as looked in anyone else's way. When you got over your crush, your pride was too wounded to even think about romance. The only exception had been during your trip overseas, where you dated boys here and there, but it was never anything that lasted over a few weeks. Now was finally the time to begin dating.

Okay, granted. Maybe part of you was doing this just to give Seungcheol a taste of his own medicine, but that part didn't matter too much. You decided you'd just disregard his crush just like he did yours; drinking in all the extra attention but never doing anything about it

~

"Hey, wait up!"

You slowed down without looking back, able to recognize that voice even in your sleep.

"Forget about me? I always walk you to your next class," he chuckled, breathless, "Uh, here. Got you your favorite," he said as he handed you a beverage of your choice.

"Thanks, Cheol," you replied, disinterested as usual.

Even before knowing about his intentions, you had kept a very clear emotional distance from Seungcheol for the past couple of years. You were sure he was aware that your crush had died down years ago, now leaving you completely indifferent towards him, but he never once brought it up. The most reaction you could gauge out of him was the way he deflated a bit every time you spoke to him and failed to show the same enthusiasm you once did.

"So, any plans this weekend?"

"Oh, yeah. Going on a date," you said nonchalantly.

This made him stop in his tracks, causing you to have to slow down your walking once again to turn back and look at him in feigned interest.

"A date? W-what, with who?", he spluttered, a frown making its way on his face.

"Just some guy I met on tinder," you responded, "C'mon, I need to get to class," you nudged him.

He took your instruction to keep walking, still frowning, "A guy from tinder? You don't even know him? I- Is your brother okay with this?"

"It's not really any of his business, now, is it?", you scoffed.

"Since when are you even dating anyway? I thought you needed time to 'find yourself'. Isn't that the whole reason you were gone for half a year?", grumbled Seungcheol.

"Not like it's any of your business, but yeah, I am dating. I'm 19, it's not like I've never dated. I went on dates while I was traveling. It's not that big of a deal."

"You dated? What? And you never told me?"

This made you stop in your tracks, turning to him and making him halt too.

"'Tell you'? Why would you need to know anything about my dating life? We're not even friends."

"Oh, so now we're not friends? I've known you literally since the day Jeonghan's parents brought you home and now we're not friends?", he was beginning to get agitated, you could tell.

Pushing his buttons was fun at first, but now you were also starting to feel frustration at his entitlement over you.

"As far as I can remember, we've never been friends. You just liked the attention I gave you and made a joke of me for years. Is that friendship to you?"

"We- we shouldn't talk about this here, okay?" he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you, but saw that only a few other students were walking by, completely unsuspecting.

"You know what, Cheol? Thanks for the drink. I can get to class alone. I'll see you at home," you snatched your bag from his arms and marched away, leaving a confused Seungcheol behind.

"Cheol told me you guys got into a fight," was the first thing Jeonghan said as he walked into your workplace at 7:30 sharp in the morning.

"God, it's bad enough I have to live with the two of you, do you need to gossip about me too?"

"I told you about his crush in confidence! I can't believe you'd betray my trust like this," he said with zero emotion behind his words.

"No you didn't."

"No I didn't", he giggled, "Give me my usual, yeah?", he took a seat on the counter right in front of you, grabbing a nearby muffin to accompany the drink you were now making him.

"So you're really dating now?", he inquired after less than five seconds of silence.

"How much did Seungcheol tell you?"

"He gave me a rundown of the entire conversation."

You groaned at this. Men were truly the nosier gender.

"Yes, I'm going on a date with some guy from one of my classes tomorrow."

"I thought you said he was from tinder?"

"I just assumed it'd annoy Cheol even more if he thought I was choosing some random guy over him."

"That's mean", he pouted, followed by a grin, "Good job."

You handed him his drink and took a moment to sit down from your side of the counter, sighing dramatically at your brother.

"Are you really not interested in Cheol at all?", he rubbed at your arm to show comfort.

"I ... Maybe? I liked him for so long. It's hard for that to just go away, specially knowing he likes me back. But I can't just let him win me over so easily, you know?"

"Maybe you should talk to him? Let him explain his thought process and see if it's worth giving him a chance."

"Maybe," you sighed.

"Not 'maybe.' You're talking to him. Spending a single night with the two of you while you were icing each other out was enough for me. I told him I'd stay somewhere else tomorrow night so the two of you can talk after your date. It's a done deal."

"Dude! Can you stop making decisions for me? I-"

"I'm your older brother. It's in the fine print," he argued.

"Adoptiv-"

He grabbed the muffin and put it to your lips, interrupting your sentence, "That's enough of that."

You opted to just let him win (yet again) and mentally prepare yourself for your conversation with Seungcheol the following day.

Joshua.

That was the name of the guy you'd be going on a date with this afternoon.

He was cute, polite, smart, and seemed to be an overall great guy based on the few interactions you'd had with him during class. He was actually who you used to walk to class with before Seungcheol had intercepted your routine by forcing his way into your schedule.

You weren't particularly excited about going on this date. Joshua was the perfect guy by all means, but you didn't feel any type of spark when you were with him. You were pretty sure he didn't either. It was hard to tell. Nothing really compared to the way you felt for Seungcheol during the majority of your teens. You doubted you'd ever crush on someone so hard ever again.

You had never admitted it out loud, but you were pretty sure your crush on Seungcheol had at some point become love. You didn't just like Seungcheol, you (had) loved him, which made getting over your infatuation even harder. It had also made that unbecoming feeling of rejection much harder to let go of. The reminder of the constant rejection you had gone through was enough to not even entertain the idea of looking at Seungcheol with the same enamored eyes you always reserved for him ever again.

And so now you were getting ready for your date. Whether anything came of it didn't matter too much to you. You needed to show both Seungcheol and your brother that you were truly over Seungcheol. That you wouldn't fall for him when it was finally convenient for him.

~

The date was overall nice.

The two of you had opted for something casual, deciding to an arcade and have a casual meal that consisted of nachos and some convenience store ramen afterwards.

The date felt like an outing you'd have with any other friend. Maybe because that's what it actually was in the end.

It didn't take too much time into your date for both you and Joshua to say what you were thinking – You were better off as friends. You both chuckled at it, finding it comedic how you had both had the same thought, meaning there would be no hard feelings at the end of the day.

The night was spent playing games and bantering with one another. It was a casual and quite relaxing outing between two friends. Which is what left Joshua to inquire as to why you had asked him out in the first place as he walked you back to your apartment.

"There's, uh, this guy I'm trying to get over," you decided to be honest with him. You could really see a friendship forming here, plus he seemed like a trustworthy guy, so lying would be fruitless.

"Ah. Makes sense", he clicked his tongue, "Is it Choi Seungcheol by any chance?"

That caught you off guard. And it must've shown in your face, as Joshua chuckled in return before continuing.

"I've just noticed the two of you together a lot lately, that's all. What's the story?"

If only Joshua had known about the length of the story you were about to tell him, he likely would not have asked, but the simple question was enough to fire you up and let him in on every excruciating detail.

By the end of it, Joshua's face had gone through every reaction. From surprised, to angry (likely in empathy), to apprehensive.

"Well, he sounds like he was a dick in high school-"

"Right!"

"But ...."

"'But'?!"

"Listen. You were what, 15? Guys are so dumb at that age. I did my fair share of dumb things. And having a pretty girl be so into you at that age would give any guy a huge ego. Maybe he's being honest about his feelings," he had reasoned.

"Why is everyone on his side? What, am I supposed to just forgive him?"

"Of course not. But maybe part of you still likes him. You shouldn't let your pride get in the way of finally being with the guy you like."

That last statement had left you thinking.

You already had doubts about your feelings for Cheol, knowing that your conflict towards his newfound feelings was enough indication to realize that you might've still been holding a torch for him.

But it was his comment about pride that really had you reconsidering things.

Was it really just your pride stopping you from even giving Seungcheol a chance?

The way that you saw it, if you gave in to Seungcheol now that he finally liked you back, it only proved how weak you were for him, how easy it was for him to just snap his fingers and have you at his feet once again.

But you also needed to consider the fact that he had liked you since seventeen. You were both nineteen now, going on twenty. He had held back on his feelings for two years, hoping that you'd someday reciprocate once more. Clearly he wasn't hoping to use your old crush against you, or else he would've done so already.

These conflicting thoughts plagued your mind all the way until Joshua hugged you goodbye at your apartment door, while you were unaware of Seungcheol watching the two of you with a frown from the small window behind you, completely misreading the situation.

"Joshua Hong? That's the guy you're dating?", were the first words he said to you when you walked in, fully washed with venom and disdain.

This was starting off well.

"Were you spying on me?"

"You didn't answer my question," he rebutted.

You walked past him and let yourself fall back on the couch, sighing at the conversation you knew was awaiting.

"Cheol. Stop beating around the bush by snooping into my life," you started, the beating of your heart betraying the confidence in your voice, "Jeonghan told me you wanted to talk, so talk."

"Is there even a point? If you're already taken, do I even have a chance?", he chuckled bitterly, taking a seat across from you on a lone loveseat.

Oh.

This was the first time Seungcheol had ever acknowledged his romantic feelings towards you in the two years in which he's supposedly had them. It made you feel weak to admit it, but that statement alone already had your resolve melting.

"I- I'm not taken. Joshua and I are just friends."

"You came back home together at 10. You're wearing a skirt. I saw the two of you hug outside. Am I missing something?", he scoffed.

"Dude, I- What? Those are all completely platonic things. Not like you have any right to complain anyways .." you trailed off.

"Okay, if it's not a date then why did you tell me it was one on Wednesday? Huh?"

"Because I wanted you to know what it felt like!", you blurted, abruptly getting up from the couch.

"What? You-"

"It's not fair, Seungcheol! I liked you. For years. And you never looked my way. You made fun of me, you used me, you ignored me. I was just some dumbass who couldn't take a hint, and now you like me? Now you wanna know who I'm dating and who I like? Hah," you were halfway through your rambles before you realized it.

He got up from his spot and walked over to you, solemn and hurt look on his face. He seemed embarrassed by your statement, though also accepting of it.

"You- you're right. I never took you seriously. I ... I always just saw you as Jeonghan's weird little sister, I-"

"We're the same age!"

"Okay, but Jeonghan was always so protective towards you, I always thought of you as a little kid. I'm sorry, I know how harsh and unfair that sounds, but I don't want to lie to you. I don't know what changed, or when it did, but I- at some point I just couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathed out.

"Hah," you chuckled bitterly, "Was this when I changed my look, Cheol? Are you that shallow?"

"N-no! Listen, I know the timing was bad, but it wasn't that. I always thought you were pretty. I know you probably didn't see it for yourself, and ... I know my teasing probably didn't help your confidence, – and that's something I regret so badly – but you've always been beautiful. It had nothing to do with that, I swear," he held his hand to his chest as if to swear by his words.

You couldn't help blushing at his words, avoiding eye contact for a moment before responding.

"Then what was it?"

"I guess I just missed you", he shrugged sadly, "I got so used to having you around and to knowing how much I meant to you. I took you for granted, and I regretted it the moment I lost you," it was his turn to feel embarrassed, "When you stopped seeking me out, I finally began to see what you were like past your crush. You were so fun and carefree. So nice and, and beautiful. You saw me in rose-colored glasses and I just didn't see you at all. Not until then," he finished.

"What does this all mean, Cheol?" you said, almost exasperated, "Am I supposed to forget the way you'd mock me or just straight up ignore me for years? Yeah, sure, we were kind of beginning to become friends once high school was almost over, but it didn't mean anything to me by that point. I was just over it."

"And are you over me?"

"What?"

He lifted his eyebrow in question, taking a few steps towards you.

"Are you really completely over me? Do you feel nothing at all?", his eyes were confidently following your gaze as he questioned you.

"I- Yes, I am," you gulped unwillingly, taking a few steps back as he took some forward.

"I don't believe that. I mean, you left only for a few months and I never stopped thinking about you ... There's no way you got over me that suddenly, is there?"

"You think too highly of yourself, Cheol-"

"So you feel nothing at all?", he had made his way into your personal space by now, almost crowding you against the wall, "Aren't you curious, at least? Don't you wanna see if there's anything left?", he breathed out.

"I, Cheol, I-"

"Just tell me no. Push me away. Tell me to fuck off and I'll leave you alone," his gaze fell to your lips, slowly making its way back to your eyes again.

"I can't, I ... Cheol ..."

Due to your lack of rejection, Seungcheol closed the gap, gently pressing his lips against you as he let out a breath of relief in his kiss.

You'd kissed a few boys during your time away. Hell, you'd even kissed Joshua earlier today, but neither of those experiences had felt quite like this. During all those exchanges, Seungcheol had always somehow been in the back of your mind, making you wonder what it would've been like if he had been the guy you were kissing instead. Now you finally knew what it was like ... And you were already growing addicted.

It was only a few seconds into the kiss when the two of you let your desire for the other take over. He groaned against your lips as you ran your hands through his hair, pulling his face as close to your own as possible. His hands ran down to your waist and caressed your back in a way far too desperate for the first kiss shared between the two of you.

With no words, he kissed you until running out of breath, eventually lowering his head so he could attack your neck with licks and nips to the sensitive skin on there. You leaned your head to the side, allowing him more room to suck into as he rejoiced in your sighs of pleasure.

It was a mutual exchange. The two of you seemed to be equally desperate for the other, your wandering hands never halting in the exploration of the other's body. His hands eventually dared to venture under your top, slowly sneaking their way towards your breasts. He kissed your lips once more as his hands caressed and played with your tits, moaning against your mouth every time you'd whine at his touches.

"Angel ...", he breathed against your lips, "Are you still sure? Are you still sure you don't want me?", his words were slightly muffled by his inability to disconnect from you for more than a second.

"I need- fuck, Cheol ... Just-"

"I know ... It's okay. You don't have to say it," he pushed his tongue into your mouth once again.

Cheol separated from you and led you to your room by your hand, closing the door before pressing you up against it and kissing you again.

The way he kissed you was nothing but sensual and full of emotion, making you forget any complaint you had against him as his lips connected to yours again and again.

His hands took advantage of your caged in position, feeling up every curve and squeezing at his favorite parts. There was a depraved urgency behind his movements, almost as if he had been aching to do this; burning to finally have you to his full disposition. When he seemingly had his fill of caressing every inch, he pulled away barely enough to speak (which had been a feat, as your lips desperately followed his, and his own were unable to resist yours at first).

"Let me take you to bed," be begged, "I've wanted you for years. Please, let me have you," he plead against your lips, giving you a languid peck as he finished his request.

"Cheol ..."

He pulled away a bit more at the hesitancy in your voice, "I know I was an asshole. I know I hurt you for years. I know I don't deserve you," he took a deep breath before intensely looking into your eyes, "but I can't stop thinking about you. If you ever felt even an ounce of what I've felt towards you since we were seventeen, then I'm so sorry to have caused you such pain. I was a stupid teenager who felt too cool to look your way long enough to realize you were far too good for me. Please. Please, I'll beg if you want me to , just ... Give me a chance," he finished with a pained expression in his eyes, voice wavering by the end of his speech.

"You made me feel like such an idiot, like-"

"I'm the idiot – Me! You're perfect," he grabbed onto your hands and brought them up to his lips, "I love you. So much. Jeonghan's so fed up of hearing me tell him how in love with you I am. All my friends know how I feel about you. I'll embarrass myself time and time again proving it to you," dropping your hands, he wrapped his arms around you again, bringing you closer to him as his eyes dropped to your lips.

That had been a shock.

You had never expected for Seungcheol's feelings to be anything more than superficial, much less did you expect for him to confess to you in such a way. The thought of him gushing about you to his friends was enough to make you blush, but knowing that he was willing to prove his feelings for you as much as you saw fit made you weak at the knees. This was all you had ever wanted, tenfold. If your current reaction to his revelation was anything to go by, then you were now realizing that your feelings for him had never truly gone away. You had carried a torch for Seungcheol all these years, even when you thought you had completely gotten over him. Even when you weren't thinking of him, he was always plaguing your mind.

And so you kissed him.

You put all previous hesitancy aside and followed your desires, pulling him to you as you let passion take over.

He didn't question you, choosing to press you up against him instead, blindly walking the two of you towards your bed and laying you down in it, crawling on top of you once more to keep kissing you.

No words were exchanged for a while, the only sounds filling up the room were made up of your collective moans and the ruffling of the bedsheets – result of the way you were feeling each other up. You were glad Jeonghan had decided to stay elsewhere tonight. Hell, he probably knew the two of you would snap and end up in the way you evidently did.

Pulling away for a quick moment, Seungcheol pulled away and threw off his shirt, causing the cloudiness in your mind to clear up for a moment so you could lean up and run your hands through his bare chest, earning a chuckle from him.

"Like what you see?", he smirked like the cockiest shit you'd ever seen, except it kinda worked on you regardless.

But you couldn't let him have the upper hand here, so you did what any sensible girl would do and threw off your own top, leaving you in a pretty lacy bralette.

The smirk wiped off his face immediately as his eyes lowered to your breasts. To make matters worse for him, you decided to sensually pull off your bra, making a little show out of it just to see how much lust would overtake him at the sight.

"Fuck ...", he muttered, leaning down so he could get his hands on you.

You stopped him before he could, however. Smirking at him, "You have to ask, Cheollie."

"Angel ... Don't play this with me."

"Ask, or else you can't touch me."

"I- Fuck. Please. Can I touch them?," he breathed out, eyes still glued to your chest as you played with your own mounds just to mock him.

You nodded, taking his arms and leading them to your chest.

He took full advantage of this, feeling you up like a starved man devouring his last meal. His mouth joined in on the fun soon after, kissing and licking at your nipples, groaning whenever your hands would pull at his hair.

He undressed the rest of you during the following minutes, making quick work of your shoes, his own, and your skirt. His pants were the last to go, leaving the two of you in just your underwear.

"Help me take it off?", he led your hands to his hardened cock, hooking your fingers on his boxers so you could get them off for him. You pulled his face down to your own and sucked on his tongue as your other hand aided him in removing his boxers. He did the same to your panties, finally crawling on top of you again, with your bare crotches finally facing one another.

"Fuck, I want you so bad," he breathed against your lips, beginning a slow grind against your cunt.

You ground against each other like animals in heat for a while, losing your breaths with the other's lips. The way his hardened length graced your folds with the perfect friction had you getting wetter by the second, making you wail against his lips.

"Can I eat you out, baby?," he groaned into your mouth, a desperate look in his eyes.

"Y-yes, fuck," you cried.

He kissed at your nude body on his way down, licking and sucking splotches of red and purple wherever he could until reaching your thighs, using his strong arms to open them and wedge himself between them.

"God ... Been dreaming of kissing up these thighs for years. You're so fucking gorgeous, do you even know?", he sounded pained as he said so, pressing soft kisses at the softest part of your thighs, "Dreamt about you since were seventeen," he blew cold air into your cunt, causing you to retract a bit.

"Cheol ..."

"Is this how you felt? Huh? Did you want me just as badly as I did you?", he finally gave you an experimental lick, groaning at the taste, "But you never got over me, did you? That's good," he nodded to himself, licking more and more, "That way I get to keep you," and that was all he could say before his mouth became fully occupied by your cunt.

And he was right. Even as your crush died down, you got older and began to have thoughts about him. Thoughts that accompanied you on the many lonely nights while you were abroad and away from him. During all those nights in which you swore you were over him. It was nice to know that you'd had a similar effect on him these past few years.

You didn't have much time to ponder about it as Seungcheol quite literally lost himself between your legs. His arms proved to be as strong as they looked, forcing your legs open even as the stimulation made you try and close them around his head. His groans of pleasure against your weeping cunt did not help matters, simply leading you to your end all the faster.

"Fucking delicious, fuck. No one's ever had this before, right, beautiful? You've been saving this cunt for me? Hmm?", he slurred his words while he made out with your pussy, groaning once more when you whimpered in confirmation, "Need to taste you, angel. Cum for me, fuck. Wanna be the first one to feel you like this," he rambled, delirious on your taste.

And you were equally as delirious, falling apart for him almost as if your body had been following his direction. He continued to make sinful sounds against your cunt as he tasted you all through your high, making you even more lightheaded than you already were.

Giving you no time to recover, Seungcheol climbed atop you once more and made you swallow any words you may have had by sealing your lips with his own, forcing your the remnants on your taste onto your own tongue. You battled each other like this once more, hands careless as they grabbed at one another in desperation.

"C-condom?", be pulled away to ask.

"No, Cheol. I- You don't carry?", you managed to let out.

"I, No. I- I've never ..."

He looked uncharacteristically bashful, making you tilt your head in curiosity. Until it hit you.

"You're a virgin?"

He pulled away at this, sitting up a bit on the bed and creating a small distance between the two of you.

"It's not- I've done stuff before, just not ... this. I, uh, I was waiting for you," he confessed, forcing his eyes away from your gaze.

This broke your heart, but in a good way.

If you had any remnants of doubt in your mind about his sincerity about his crush, they were gone now. He had waited. For you. He wanted you to be his first, so he waited for you to come back. He waited for you to like him again. In the same way you had never seriously dated anyone before, he waited.

"Cheol ..."

He must've misinterpreted your tone, as he continued to refuse eye contact with you, seemingly embarrassed at being a virgin for some reason.

So you took matters into your hands, grabbing onto him with a confident hand and pulling him into you once more. With some unexpected strength, you managed to switch positions with him, now straddling him as his back laid against your mattress.

Before he could question you, you kissed him again, this time with a passion you knew you could only reserve for Seungcheol. He kissed you back with equal want, making you feel like you'd reached a stage of nirvana no one had ever before. Every emotion behind the kiss was far too intense to even describe.

The rest of the exchange was almost wordless, with a few silences being filled by praise for one another. You finally sat yourself down on him, condomless, but not regretful at all for your decision. If you were to ever let anyone impale you without filter, it'd be him.

The bruises he left on your hips were accepted with delight. It was only fair, seeing as your nails also left marks on his chest. The two of you left your mark on the other; a silent way of letting the other know who they belonged to.

You bounced and ground on top of him, almost wailing at the way in which his hands guided your movements in such a desperate way. At some point you began shamelessly humping against each other, filling the space with depraved sounds of pleasure.

Cheol looked down to the spot connecting you, groaning upon seeing the wetness seeping from your cunt, but decidedly bringing a hand towards your mound in order to toy with your clit. The arch of your back and extra tightness of your cunt were enough for his orgasm to approach more rapidly than planned.

"With me," he rasped, "Cum with me ... Need your first time to be with me. Just like this."

You barely registered his words. Your eyes were already rolled back, and your back arched almost to the point of breaking. Your toes completely curled and your nails digging into his reddened chest. But you understood, and your body acted accordingly, bringing you into orgasm as he softly counted you down, leading to an almost perfectly synchronized high.

A few moments of comfortable silence (sans the heavy breathing) went by before Seungcheol carefully pulled out of you with a low groan and did his best at cleaning you up with some kleenex near your bed. He gave you a soft peck after he was done, settling the two of you under the covers and held you in his arms.

"Always wanted this part too."

"Hmm?"

"To hold you like this", he clarified, smiling down at you.

Blushing involuntarily, you agreed, cuddling further into his warm chest, leading him to softly run his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner.

"I meant everything I said. I'll always regret treating you the way I did. There's no reason why you should, but I hope you'll forgive me," he sounded pained at his own words, likely feeling genuine hatred for the way in which he behaved during your early teenage years.

You pulled away from his chest, creating a small distance between you so you could look into his eyes properly.

"Seungcheol, I ... I love you," you started, "And I forgive you. I was wrong to judge you so harshly for not liking me the way I wanted you to back then. I'm sorry for letting my pride get in the way. I shouldn't have iced you out after I got over you. It was the only way at the time to protect myself from the rejection and-"

"Stop," he went to hold your cheeks in his hands, "You have nothing to apologize for. You forgiving me is all I wanted, and ... and knowing you feel the same is more than I was ever expecting. We'll move past all that, okay?"

"Okay," you nodded sweetly.

"Now ... Is it too soon to ask you to be official?"

"You waited until after popping my cherry to ask me out?", you laughed.

"In my defense ..."

"You have none!"

"Okay, whatever! Just say yes so Jeonghan doesn't continue to suffer through my rants about how much I like his sister," he pulled you into his arms again, returning your laughter.

"Fine! Yes! We're official," you feigned annoyance, but were unable to not mimic his own smile.

It had taken far too long, but you finally had the upper hand. He liked you. He asked you out. He was yours. The wait had been worth it.

To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, penetrative sex, deprived cheol, banter with jeonghan, etc.

wc: 989 (teaser); 2009 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Okay, I need the two of you to get the hell out of my apartment."

That had been the way in which Jeonghan welcomed the two of you upon walking in on you and Seungcheol calmly watching a movie together in your shared living room.

It had now been three months since you and Seungcheol began officially dating. Since you were roommates, this also meant that you were now living with your boyfriend. Despite the fact that Cheol and your brother shared a room together (leaving you with a room of your own), Seungcheol still had the tendency of spending a few nights per week sleeping over at your room.

So far, the dynamic between the three of you hadn't changed too much. The biggest difference was that now you and Seungcheol finally developed more of a friendship than you had during the period of time between high school and college in which you had begun to ice him out in order to protect your own feelings. That, however, died down as soon as you moved in, eventually leading to your current romantic relationship with each other.

Jeonghan had been happy for you, having known that if he forced the two of you (and subsequently left you two alone in the apartment) to talk, you'd inevitably end up confessing your feelings and finally getting together. He had seen it coming since middle school, he had said. It only took about six years for his matchmaking to come into fruition, but it led to some pretty interesting slowburn – his words, not yours.

In these past three months, however, some awkward moments had arisen.

Being your brother, Jeonghan always found it uncomfortable whenever he happened to be around when you and Seungcheol would do couple activities. Seeing you hang out was fine, obviously, but a few weird instances had already left him traumatized.

So far, he had walked in on you making out a total of five times, feeling each other up over your clothes two times, Seungcheol making eyes at you seven times, had come across your discarded underwear three times, and had even walked in on you having sex once. At some point a line had to be drawn, and apparently he had chosen that to he now.

"Dude, you're the one who wanted us to get together," you argued.

"I wanted the mutual pining to stop, not to almost walk in on my sister getting railed every other day. Leave!," he said, though he simply sat down on the couch, forcibly creating a wedge between you and Cheol.

"Let's just go to your room, babe," Seungcheol got up, taking your hand while giving Jeonghan a dirty look, "Nuance," he grumbled.

"You're the nuance," responded Jeonghan, though already immersed with the popcorn and TV he had stolen from you.

Seungcheol led you to your room, closing the door behind you and instantly turning to you.

"Hi, baby," he whispered, holding you close to him.

"Hi," you giggled at him.

He leaned down to kiss you, his hands on the small of your back and pressing you up against him. His lips were basically on yours before Jeonghan's sudden voice made the two of you jump back in surprise.

"Don't have sex! I swear to God, if I hear the two of you having sex one more time, I'm evicting you! Just sleep like normal people!," he had yelled from the living room.

He had a bit of a point. The walls were relatively thin here, and you weren't exactly quiet when you had sex.

Seungcheol groaned and buried his face in your neck, "Baby, will you still love me if I kill your brother?"

"I'll love you even more," you pouted.

He snickered, removing his head from your neck and giving you a singular peck on your lips, "C'mon, let's go to sleep."

~

The two of you had initially thought that Jeonghan's complaint about you having sex had been a fluke. You believed that maybe he was stressed that day and that he hadn't meant what he said when he stated that he did not want the two of you to sleep together anymore. However, his words proved to be more literal throughout the following week.

Any time the two of you were so much as together, Jeonghan would groan and complain, saying that if he caught the two of you doing anything less than PG, he would cause 'any trouble possible to stop it' (his own words). It was beginning to frustrate you, but your frustration could not compare to that of Seungcheol's.

"I'm going to kill him. I'm really doing it this time," he said decidedly, hearing Jeonghan's incessant attempts to interrupt whatever was going on behind your closed door.

"Babe-"

"I just want to have sex with you! It's been over a week since I've had you, I'm going insane", he pulled at his scalp.

"Yeah, I know, but he just-"

"Babe, I don't think you understand. I'm hard every day. Even seeing you gets me going by now. I can't do this anymore! Any time I try to touch you, he's there somehow!"

The manic look in his eyes spoke for itself. And it was true. Seungcheol's constant blue balling this past week and a half had him growing aroused at the mere sight of you in shorts. It was flattering, but it was beginning to affect you too. Knowing how badly he wanted you made you weak at the knees, causing the two of you to grow incredibly frustrated at your brother's antics.

You realized now that maybe you shouldn't have been so liberal in sleeping together while living with your brother. You should have known he would snap sooner or later, no matter how much he had rooted for the two of you to get together.

You wondered how this would end up playing out, because the two of you were already beyond breaking.

...

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[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.

alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]

notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook likes to be needed.

He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.

Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.

He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.

It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.

Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.

When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.

When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.

When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.

“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.

“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.

“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.

“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.

Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.

“Well we could-…”

“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.

“… I knew that.”

You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.

Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.

He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.

There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.

There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.

All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.

It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.

( ♡ )

Jungkook could wait more.

He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.

He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.

It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.

Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.

He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.

Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”

“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”

“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”

Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.

Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.

Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.

“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.

Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.

“You okay, Kook?”

“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.

Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.

Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.

Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.

“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.

“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."

Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.

“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.

There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.

There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.

Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.

( ♡ )

Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.

He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.

“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”

“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”

He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"

“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”

Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”

Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”

“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.

“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.

“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”

Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.

He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.

“What?”

“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”

“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.

“I said, we have to-…”

“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.

You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.

You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”

There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.

Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”

“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.

Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.

“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”

You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.

Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.

“Nothing.”

“Say that again, Jungkook.”

“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”

“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”

You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.

Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.

“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”

Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”

“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”

Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.

“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”

A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.

You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.

“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”

It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being your wife.”

“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.

“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”

“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.

“What?”

“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.

“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.

You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”

Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.

“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”

There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.

“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.

“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”

You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”

You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”

“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”

( ♡ )

You asked for a day off.

You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.

You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.

You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.

Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.

“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.

“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.

Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.

“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”

“Mhmm.”

“Say it back.”

You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"

“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.

“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”

“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.

You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.

“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.

“You’re not supposed to be.”

“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”

( ♡ )

You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.

You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.

You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.

Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.

“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.

You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.

“Not yet, Young-ie.”

.

.

.

There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.

Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.

( ♡ )

Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.

With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.

It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.

Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.

“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”

Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.

“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.

Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.

"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.

"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."

"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"

The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.

"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."

One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.

Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.

“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"

"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.

"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.

Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.

"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."

Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."

He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.

You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.

"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”

"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”

"I don't know either.”

"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."

You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."

Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.

"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."

The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.

"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."

"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.

"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."

Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.

"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"

You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.

"Nemesis sounds a little childish."

Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."

To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.

"I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"

"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.

"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?

"Hopefully not mine."

( ♡ )

It takes little effort to love you.

Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.

Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.

You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.

It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.

You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.

Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.

He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.

He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.

It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.

Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.

If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.

If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.

“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.

“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.

“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.

He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.

“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.

“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”

The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.

You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.

“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”

Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.

“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”

“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”

“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”

There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.

“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”

There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”

“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”

“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”

Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."

“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”

Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.

“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”

“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”

“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”

[hellisharchive]

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you can do headcanons of what kinky/perv stuff that hazbin men (alastor, Lucifer, husk, Adam, val, etc) often do?

Plus I love your Adam fics!/headcanons

Have good day :3

・﹒・ perversions of the soul

Warnings: 18+, sexual scenarios, sexual comments

Pairings: [Separate] Lucifer, Adam, Val, Vox, and Saint Peter [Yall know I couldn't NOT include him, right?]

Notes: Hi, thank you for requesting! Because I don't write for Husk or Alastor won't include them, but I'll include the others! It's purely because I don't know how to write them in this way! I hope that's ok! :D

﹒Lucifer﹒

・He is a thighs man, he will stare at your thighs for hours if you let him. You've caught him so many times looking at your thighs and every time you lightly slap him on the shoulder because you know all he's thinking about is shoving his face in between them.

・He loves to whisper dirty nothings into your ear to make you flustered in public, he lives for your reactions and red face as you try to remain calm. Just seeing your reactions and you slowly growing horny is enough to make him hard alone.

・While that man can fuck good- he revels in giving oral sex to you whenever he can. He loves eating you out and sucking on you until you're cumming over and over again. He thinks you taste absolutely delicious and can't get enough of you. He's cum-drunk in all sense of the word.

﹒Adam﹒

・This man isn't as kinky as you would originally think- but still explores sexually occasionally. However, if you got boobs, he will never get enough of them, and will motorboat them even if Lute is around. If you got a dick, best be ready for random crotch feel-ups at any given moment. If you don't have either/or- he will grab and pinch your ass and even smack it until its red.

・He is big into you moaning, really big into it. It gets him off so easily, one little moan and he's at full mast. His main goal in bed is making you moan as loud as possible and when you do- well, expect to be getting a creampie.

・Loves fangirls/fanguys and if you love him in his band before even personally knowing him, one stop to being given a...private show. He lives to see you get excited for his band and looking down at you from his stage, gives him the biggest serotonin rush (and another kind of rush) that slowly builds up over the course of the night as he gets sweaty and out of breath.

・Valentino・

・Let's be real- what kinks doesn't this man have? There's many to chose from, but if I had to pick one- you being weak and powerless under him is one of his favorites. Watching you be completely at his disposal for any reason is a big yes to him.

・Degredation is another one, oh boy, he loves making you feel like shit at any chance possible. He will tell you that you're a whore, a dirty slut, only good for being fucked by him and him alone.

・He is possesive to the upmost degree and always makes sure to leave his marks all over you so others know that you are his. He always makes sure to parade you around the tower with you by his side so everyone knows not to fuck with you- messing with you or trying to fuck you.

・Semi-public sex is his go-to when he needs a quickie, he loves fucking you in spaces where anyone can walk in and see you two going at it. He doesn't care who sees his body, he thinks it's hot as fuck and makes him even harder inside you if he hears someone walking by.

﹒Vox﹒

・Biggest perv imaginable. Will watch you fuck yourself silly with toys even if he's just a room away. He never stops watching you, and I mean never. He always has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't fuck anyone else like Val or some ramdon schmuck off the street.

・Just like Val- he is extremely possessive of what's his and makes it known. He doesn't display it publicly with you around as to not scare you off, but he makes sure every single person in the tower knows not to even touch you.

・He loves getting his dick sucked above everything else, he loves the feeling of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock swallowing all his cum down your throat. He loves to see you cry as you try to fit it all down, enjoys wiping them away and telling you that you're doing a good job.

﹒Saint Peter﹒

・That man is as innocent as can be what kinks could be possibly have? Well, he has a dirty little secret- one day he discovered that he got hard seeing you with ice cream all over your mouth and imagined it was cum. Naughty I know! Ever since he has not been able to let that thought go and guiltily imagines you sucking on his...

・He always offers you ice cream just to watch you smother it all over your mouth as you eat it and he always acts nervous around you because he oh so badly wants to make his dirty fantasies real. But he can't just avoid you! You always ask why he likes ice cream so much and he simply says that it just tastes good.

・He also would never admit that just you showing attention to him can get him riled up since almost every person that had crossed the gate never payed much attention to him. So when you showed interest in getting to know him and eventually dating him- he was down bad and it makes him act up a little.

[sunnami]

the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.

a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!

i. academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class.

“It’s driving me mad, Prongs,” says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chair—not at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year. 

“I’ve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my ‘pronunciation could do with some work’?” Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, “And, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?”

“No way,” Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. “How dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?”

Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. “It’s not about the baskets, Lily! It’s a fear-mongering tactic—a threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesn’t win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.” 

James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) “Don’t you think you’re going overboard there, Moony? We’ve won the bloody thing every year—and if we’re running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lily smacks him on the arm. “Don’t you dare, James Fleamont Potter!” 

Sirius whistles. “Full name. Yikes. You’re on your own there, mate.” 

James glares at him. “I’ve had my tongue down your throat, don’t call me ‘mate’.” 

Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell you’ve cast on him—and their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) “Be honest, Moony, you’re just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,” he grins salaciously. 

“Can confirm,” replies Lily with a chirpy nod. “The back view is even better.” 

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point, my love,” Remus splutters with a cough. “It’s a matter of legacy and pride now. If—”

“While I appreciate being the topic of conversation, I’ve come to collect my students’ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,” you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. “You see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.” 

James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. “Come here, darling,” he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans you’re wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if you’d let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. “How was your day?”

He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. “Perfect now that I’ve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. “Did you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.”

“He’s just cross because you’ve become the entire castle’s favorite teacher in your first year,” Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now he’s got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. He’s so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) “Not even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.”

You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. “Is it my fault that I’m so lovable?” 

Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, “Not at all, darling.”

“Shall I lock the doors now?” Sirius offers mischievously. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a classroom.”

ii. it’s too hot to cuddle!

“Mmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,” you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godric’s Hollow has ever seen—swatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, you’d relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare arms—or the times you’d wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.

Lily sniffles. “Ah, woe is me. My own son doesn’t want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadful—what ever happened to ‘til death do us part’, you traitors?” 

You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glare—the pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.”

Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopus—wincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. “I already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.”

James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) “Did someone say get naked?”

“Way ahead of everyone,” says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth. 

“Oh Gods, Sirius!” Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. “Get back in there and put some clothes on!” 

“What?” he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a show—and a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. “It’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before.”

Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. “Pack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harry’s downstairs waiting for everyone. He says he’ll rip off the stuffed Padfoot’s head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.” 

That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.

You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, “God bless the Remus Lupins of the world.” 

iii. too much communication.

“—and the thing is,” you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. “When you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and then—!” you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. “And then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and you’d never, ever cheat—and I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?”

Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contorted—as though he’s in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. You’re our world, our entire heart. If you’re hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.” 

Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. “There’s something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long ago—but I was afraid you would look at me differently.”

You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. “I’ve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floors—nothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.”

Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. “I’m a werewolf, my darling. That’s why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. I’d die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.” 

“Is that it?” you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. “Truly?”

Remus nods. “Truly.”

“Oh, our poor love,” Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. “I’m sorry we let it get to this point. Look at you—you’ll cry yourself sick.” She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. “I’m sorry,” she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. “No more secrets, I promise.”

James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. “Well. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.”

You blink. “What?”

iv. child hero has very involved parents.

Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all that—well, if he could actually do anything heroic.

“What do you mean there’s a basilisk in the castle!” you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledore’s office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his face—this is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledore’s quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) “Why haven’t you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?” you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards. 

“Have you taken any protective measures?” Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remus’s hand that’s resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, “What about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.”

“You know what,” you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. “We’re leaving, Harry dear, let’s go.” 

“Go?” the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. “Go, where?”

“Home,” you reply with no room for arguments. “Until the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione she’s welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why don’t you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.”

Harry thinks you’ve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.

Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherin’s taunt. “Fix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.” 

Harry’s shoulders slump. 

So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.

a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 16: DP in 1 hole - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: You were adamant about proving Steve wrong and doing something you’ve never done before.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome (f/m/m), double penetration in one hole, size kink, dom/sub, sir kink, masturbation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, overstimulated, teasing, kinda mean!steve, discussion of safe words, praise kink, creampie

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“Just…Just do it; I can’t take it, I promise. Please, sir!” Each word you sobbed seemed to stumble into the next as you begged so quickly, wiping your tear-stained face on the muscled shoulder. The man beneath ran his fingers over your scalp to try and calm you, ignoring the fact that his cock was still pressed so deep inside of your cunt that he was knocking into your cervix with each breath, let alone thrust. Bucky was holding you tightly from where you lay draped over his muscular body, both of your chests rubbing against one another, and from this position, it meant that the Brunette gang member could look over your shoulder to the other man on the bed.

“Oh baby girl, you sound so pretty when you’re begging like that”, Steve mocked with an air of arrogance, loving that your reactions were becoming more pathetic. One of his big hands was wrapped around his cock, pleasuring himself as he squeezed your arse cheek with the other. He had the perfect view from where he knelt in the centre of the bed, with Bucky and you led out in front of him; even though your back was facing him, he could see where your face was turned to the side, see the tear tracks down your cheek.

He couldn’t blame you for having this reaction; this had been going on for hours, and you’d been so good for him, but sometimes he and Bucky wanted to play, push you to your limits. In doing so, you became increasingly more pathetic and submissive, whimpering and needy for more until either Steve or Bucky enough was enough.

“You’ve done so well for us, Doll”, Bucky praised with a smirk as he kissed the back of your head, which, in turn, earned an eye roll from Steve as he knew his best friend was just trying to give you all the compliments so you’d cling to him more. “How many times has she orgasmed for us now, Stevie? 5? 6?”

Steve couldn’t help himself as he spanked your arse cheek, watching the jiggle of the muscle and the way you initially cried and jolted at the action but then moaned and perked your arse up to receive another one. Bucky also groaned at the impact as your walls had clamped down around his cock so tight that he almost came. Steve chuckled under his breath at the glare from Bucky, who had been trying to edge himself for the last half an hour and knowing what Steve was like, he wanted to see just how good his will strength was.

“She’s came so many times that she’s made a mess over the bed, haven’t you, Baby? And yet, you still want more? I don’t think you can handle any more, especially both of us”. Steve licked his bottom lip as he eyed your pretty hole, even wondering himself if this was even possible; yes, he’d seen it on porn, but two cocks in one hole? “We’re so big anyway, Honey; there’s no way you’ll be able to take both me and Bucky.” Steve taunts and earns even more of a desperate cry, more tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Pl-Please, Sir! Just try; I can take you both; I know I can”. To try and prove some kind of a point that you were not done with the fucking, you pushed yourself up slightly on Bucky’s chest and began to ride his cock. However, you were exhausted, and your cunt was puffy and sensitive, so it was more of a gentle roll than a harsh ride.

“That’s it, feel so good on top of me, Sweetheart”, Bucky groans, both hands on your hips to try and guide you slightly, completely forgetting about the double penetration idea for the moment all thoughts turned to the steadily moving wet warmth that moved around his shaft.

Steve’s arm wrapped around your chest from behind so that his hand secured around your jaw, pulling you flush against him; his mouth dipped to the shell of your ear, teasing with his teeth and causing a gasp to escape your lips. “If it hurts, what are you going to do?” he asks, his voice full of authority that was usually just saved for when he was at work.

“I’ll say my safe word”, you immediately answer, clarity clearing in your mind as your movements slowed, knowing that this discussion was necessary.

“Good girl. Now if my cock doesn’t fit next to Bucky’s, you’ll continue to be good, aren’t you, and not complain. We’ll just continue playing like we have been, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir, I understand”, you say without any sort of whimper or stutter noted as your eyes finally blinked open. Bucky smiled warmly up at you, which caused your hole to clench at just how handsome he was, but before he could react, Steve was releasing his hold on your face and pressing against your shoulders until you were lying flat against Bucky again.

You stopped rolling your hips and waited patiently for the next steps, which were Steve’s fingers. He didn’t need to use lube just yet as the blonde leader gathered some of your fluid from where you and Bucky were connected onto his index and middle finger. Ever so gently, he ran his fingers around the rim of your hole, near your perineum, as this was the area presented to him and where he was hoping to slip his cock into eventually.

With Bucky still inside, Steve ended up teasing him and stroking the two of you. Adding extra pressure, Steve slipped his fingers into your hole, following Bucky’s length until he reached the first knuckle. You were snug around his fingers as he managed to push in a couple of centimetres further until nearly to the second knuckle.

Steve pressed his hand on your lower back as he observed you taking a deep breath to keep all the muscles between your legs relaxed, which made it easier for the man to continue to stretch you.

“That’s amazing, Baby, you’re taking my fingers so well. Look at that! Taking two of my fingers and Bucky’s cock, aren’t you our special girl”. Steve’s praises helped to keep you relaxed as you smiled and warmed at the words he was saying like he was stroking the happy part of your mind.

Bucky bit his lip at the sensation, which was difficult to explain. As Steve stretched your hole, it made everything feel tighter, and just as he pushed deeper, he also had the stimulation of Steve touching the sensitive part of the underside of his cock.

“Just going to stretch you a little bit first, then I’ll add another finger”, Steve explained as his eyes trained between your face and pussy. He moved both of his fingers in semi-circles, trying to see how far your walls were willing to stretch.

Holding back a groan, he could feel how much you were trying not to clench and knew if they did succeed with this, he would lose his mind. He just hoped he didn’t cum as soon as he penetrated, which was a similar thought that Bucky had.

Scissoring his fingers around Bucky’s cock, Steve shifted closer so that a third finger could be added alongside the other two. You desperately moaned in Bucky’s chest, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving nail crevices in his one fleshed shoulder.

Steve remained still for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust before moving in and out slowly. “Fuck Steve!” It wasn’t you who moaned but Bucky who had closed his eyes to try and concentrate on not cuming before the action had even begun. It felt so good to have his cock inside your puffy tight hole, but then to have fingers as well stroking along his shaft was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

Looking over your shoulder, you took a deep breath and tried to sound as confident as possible, the tears having now stopped as you remained calm. “Please, Steve, I can take it, just try”.

Steve ignored your pleas to hurry up and continued to stretch your pussy, twisting and spreading his fingers to give his cock extra space. Even though he was three fingers deep, he and Bucky were not exactly small in the cock division. This was why this fucking session had been going on for so long because they spent so much precious time making sure you were adequately stretched to take one of their cocks, let alone two at the same time.

There had been plenty of times where one of them had been fucking your cunt and the other in your arse but nothing to the extent of two cocks in one hole.

You sighed as Steve finally pulled his fingers out and reached for the lube, coating his cock thoroughly before wiping a generous blob onto your pussy. Moving his entire body closer, Steve began to prepare for the insertion.

“Remember: Safeword”, Steve said loudly enough that you glanced over your shoulder and nodded. “Take a deep breath for me, Baby”.

You did as instructed, filling your lungs to the brim with oxygen before slowly breathing out of your mouth, which is when you felt considerable pressure between your legs.

As Steve was so thoroughly lubed, his cock nearly slid in the wrong direction, so he had to push the tip of his cock hard against Bucky’s shaft and then knock his hips with a deep thrust. At first, he wasn’t sure he would get it into your pussy with how much resistance he was met with, but then it nudged beneath the rim and was welcomed into the dangerously tight warmth of your cunt.

You had expected it to hurt in some way, but to your happy surprise, all it initially felt like was the deep burn that came with stretching your cunt for a cock, just with increased intensity. It was an odd sensation to experience, like you were going to break at the first stretch, but as your body relaxed and more of his cock pushed in, everything was just thigh highest level of pleasure imaginable.

The screaming moan you released echoed around the bedroom as Steve’s cock penetrated until he, too, was caressing your cervix with the mushroom tip of his dick.

Bucky's hands were massaging over your arse, hips and back as he tried to keep himself under control. Having Steve’s cock moving against his but pressing hard with the limited room, the difference in textures between your gummy walls and the solidness of the shaft. The tightness was another experience, almost like a pretty vice trapping his cock to perfection.

“Holy shit, Baby! That’s it; stay nice and relaxed for us. I'm just going to let you get adjusted for a moment.” Seeing his and Bucky’s lengths fitting into one hole, Steve was mesmerised. He even contemplated reaching for his phone and taking a picture to show you the wondrous thing your body could achieve.

With your cunt stretched so far, Steve and Bucky were adamant that they could feel your pulse fluttering through your walls. Not only this, but you’d squirted over Bucky from just the stretch.

You knew that you were too squished between them both to take over right now and ride their cocks and also the exercise that your body was going through; you weren’t sure you even had the energy to push off of Bucky’s chest to find a good position.

Thankfully, Steve was more than prepared to fuck for the three of you. His two meaty hands joined Bucky’s over your hips as he ever so carefully began to rock his hips in the smallest of motions so that only an inch of his cock was moving in and out of your cunt.

As more of his length edged out before being pushed in, your entire body seemed to just give up with the tension running through it with the anticipation of the double penetration. Your limbs went slack, as well as your jaw, as your mouth opened in a perfect circle to allow the animalistic grunts and moans just to seep out.

“You sound so good when you moan like that”, Bucky gasped as he tried to fuck up with Steve, causing your body to jolt with the movements.

Soon, they were both fucking your pussy, Bucky, at a slow pace that allowed his cock to brush over all of the hyper-sensitive nerves of your g-spot and with the pressure of Steve’s cock pushing on him, you could feel every since ridge of Bucky. Steve, on the other hand, was able to fuck you with a bit more intensity, sweat beginning to drip down his temple, but he couldn’t give a shit about that right now, not when his girl was taking him so well. 

“I’m so proud of you, taking both of us so well; you feel so fucking good”. Steve’s voice sounded almost as desperate as your begging did earlier as his eyebrows knitted together with the pleasure taking over his body.

Bucky was watching Steve, feeling his length fucking against his, the tightness of your pussy, the moans you were all sharing; he knew his orgasm was impending. Steve could see this from how Bucky’s hands slackened, and the grunts stopped as he tried to concentrate on not orgasming.

To be truthful, Steve was also near his orgasm, and you’d been in a constant state of cumming since both cocks had slipped inside, the coil in your abdomen tight and fluttering with involuntary contractions around their cocks. Releasing the hold on your hip, Steve reached over to grab Bucky's jaw, forcing him to look up at his boyfriend and boss.

“Cum for me, Bucky, I know you want to. Let’s fill our girl up together, yeah? Make her drip with our cum, that’s it, fucking cum for me, Bucky”.

Steve tightened his hold on Bucky’s face and slammed into you with an increased pace that your eyes rolled back just in time for Bucky to cum, hard.

“Fuck! Holy-Shit-” Bucky cried out, his body withering beneath you like he wanted to arch his back but couldn’t be with you on top. You could feel the wetness and warmth of his seed as he spilt deep inside you.

“Good boy, look so pretty when you cum. Don’t you think so, Baby?” Steve asked you, but you weren’t paying attention, not when you were deeply lost in pleasure. Steve’s pace increased further as he fucked his way to orgasm a few seconds later. More cum filled your pussy, mixing with Bucky’s as it began to drip out of you. Steve’s head tilted back as he thrust through the orgasm until the shivers ceased, and he could take a minute to catch his breath.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve’s cock slipped out of your cunt first, swiftly followed by Bucky’s, meaning the blonde had the perfect view of your pulsing, gaping hole as it leaked with their seed, dripping out onto the sheets below.

Despite being half asleep due to exhaustion, you managed to whisper, “See, I told you I could do it”.

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 2

You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) sub older spence my beloved, handjob, oral (m), spit kink?, semi-public (they are FREAKY), and idk if we can call this angst but we get to know how he feels about returning to work ~3.9k words

A/n: I didn’t plan for a part two, but rewriting scenes with specific looks of him is growing on me. Also, this happens before Emily tells him to teach seminars on his leave. And tell me what you think!!

He looked good in pink.

That was an understatement, the man looked good in pretty much anything. But today? Something was different. Something looked different. His whole appearance seemed to be on point than usual. You noticed his typically tousled hair was styled and swept back, which was a very rare sight, and it was hard for you to look away.

“…as you have obviously heard, Dr. Spencer Reid has been fully reinstated,” Emily announced, snapping you back to reality. “Welcome back, Spence.”

“Whoo-hoo! Yes!” Penelope cheered, only to be met by Emily’s pointed look. “That’s not the end, is it?”

Your boss shook your head and then proceeded to continue with another announcement. You stole a glance towards him again.

Maybe it was just really his shirt that made him look good? It wasn't even overly tight, but snug enough to accentuate the lines of his broad shoulders. Has his shoulders always been that wide? Now that you think about it, he did seem to be putting on a little weight. Not that it was a bad thing, and not that you didn't like how he looked before, but you couldn't help noticing how he filled out his shirt, and for some reason, it was doing something to you. 

Probably more than something because now you wondered what other places he filled out.

A sudden round of applause filled the room, and you joined in, tearing your gaze away from him only to find Matt Simmons grinning at you. You looked away and followed everyone as they shuffled around the room, making sure to sit as far away from Spencer as possible, although luck wasn't on your side when Matt settled into the seat beside you.

"You don't seem too thrilled about me joining the team," he murmured, leaning in close.

“What do you mean? I’m always open to new faces around here.”

“Not as excited as having an old member back, though,” Matt remarked, prompting you to snap your head at him, a slight frown forming on your face. He winked teasingly, and you groaned, shoving his shoulder away. 

“Ugh, do not wink at me.”

His laughter filled the air, but it quickly faded as the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Penelope began briefing everyone on the new case, and you did your best to mask your grimace every time a gruesome picture flashed on the screen. By the time Emily called out, “Wheels up in thirty,” you rose from your seat.

To talk to him or not talk to him?

You weighed the pros and cons, sneaking a quick glance at Spencer, who was deeply absorbed in studying the case files. The logical part of your brain told you it wasn't the best time to strike up a conversation, especially with only thirty minutes left until you had to leave. But there was something about him, it felt almost instinctual, like you were naturally drawn to him, and like a magnetic force, you couldn't resist.

Oh, fuck it—you decided to approach him.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

"Hi.”

"Hey," he greeted, looking up with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "What's up?"

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Sure," Spencer replied, his expression curious yet amused. He set aside the files he had been studying and turned his attention fully to you.

“In private?”

There was a brief pause, and you swore you could practically cut the tension with a knife. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he rose from his seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. You tilted your head back to look at him as his presence seemed to fill the room,and you couldn't help but hold your breath as you waited for his response.

“Of course,” he finally agreed, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned, leading the way to a more secluded spot, past the bullpen, past the glass doors, and down the hallway.

Once you were both out of earshot, he leaned in. “How private are we talking about?”

You nudged his side before guiding him towards the nearest office. As you stepped inside, your heart pounded in your chest, and you quickly glanced around the room to make sure it was empty. When you confirmed it was unoccupied, you turned back to see Spencer closing the door behind him.

Then everything snapped.

You weren't sure who made the first move, whether it was you or both of you acting on instinct, but before you could process it, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you close, tongue colliding with your own. You gasped at his eagerness and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed yourself against him.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you pushed him against the nearest wall, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing lightly. A soft moan escaped your lips and he responded by deepening the kiss further. It felt like time stood still as you lost yourself in the heat of his mouth against yours, until you finally pulled back, your lips brushing against his jaw.

“What…” He gasped when your mouth trailed lower. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned into his neck, his scent filling your senses. Why did he have to smell so good? “I think it’s your hair.”

“My… hair?”

You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, your eyes roaming over the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were left undone. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”

“My shirt?”

“Yes!” You half-exclaimed, half-whispered, trying to keep your voice down. “I think I’m ovulating and you’re not helping.”

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. "Oh," he managed to say. “I didn't expect that.”

"Sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

But before you could say anything else, his expression softened, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. “It’s common for women to experience changes in their hormones during ovulation. It's completely natural and nothing to be embarrassed about."

You looked up at him, your hands sliding down his chest. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just your body doing its thing,” he said reassuringly. "And honestly, it's kind of flattering to know that... I have that effect on you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your palms drifted lower. “What else do you know about this stuff?”

“Well, around the time of ovulation, a woman's body produces more estrogen, which can increase libido—”

His breath hitched when his eyes fell on your hand resting over his pants.

“What?” you prompted, a playful glint in your eye. “Why did you stop?”

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly as he met your gaze. "I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I was just going to mention that… increased estrogen levels during ovulation can also lead to heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones—”

But his words trailed off into a sigh as you palmed his arousal over his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. He was undeniably aroused, and the way he responded to your touch only fueled you even more. With a mischievous grin, you ran your palm up and down his length, feeling him throb in response before letting out a playful giggle.

You didn’t realize it would be this fun to be the one doing the teasing.

“Tell me more, Spence.”

He swallowed hard before managing to speak. "W-Well,” he stammered. "Increased estrogen levels can also... enhance blood flow to certain areas, leading to heightened sensitivity and... uh, increased pleasure—”

But before he could finish his sentence, you applied a little more pressure, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure. His words faltered, his focus shifting entirely to the delicious sensation of your hand stroking him. Your eyes traveled down, watching the way his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, noting how thick and hard he was. 

But as your gaze lingered, you caught sight of the time on your watch, and reality came crashing back in. You reluctantly pulled your hand away from him, and Spencer blinked at your sudden withdrawal, his desire-clouded mind trying to focus on you.

“What's wrong?” He whispered. “Why did you stop?”

“I… I kind of got carried away, I’m sorry," you noted. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we are."

He went still, and so did you. The room’s air conditioner hummed softly, filling the silence as you both simply stared at each other. When he didn’t respond, you slowly backed away and moved toward the door, but his grip on your arm stopped you. You turned towards him, eyebrows raised while he seemed to hesitate to say the next words.

After a moment, he sighed, his gaze softening as he finally found the words he was looking for.

“The other day, after we… you know,” he emphasized, and you nodded, urging him to continue. “I had to deal with this myself.”

His eyes flicked over the bulge in his pants and you stifled a laugh, amused at his sudden fluster. “Yeah, you said you were going to ignore it.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t.”

“And?”

“And…” he hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.

There was a moment of silence until you realized what he was implying. You gasped, the hand he wasn’t holding covering your mouth in shock. “Here?” you asked in disbelief. “At work?”

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “In the bathroom.”

“Spencer,” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, “That’s...”

“I know, I know,” he cut in, his tone self-deprecating. “But in my defense, it was all your fault.”

You giggled. “Me? I barely touched you!”

"Exactly, but it was enough to drive me crazy,” he said, and when he saw you laughing, he gave you a deadpanned look. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, it kind of is.” You shook your head in amusement. “Why are you telling me this?”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because I don’t want to leave this room and deal with it by myself again.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Is this your way of asking me to touch you?”

His eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, the flush creeping up his cheeks contrasting against the paleness of his skin, making his reaction all the more apparent.

“Please?”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. “Spencer, we only have…” You glanced over your watch. “Fifteen minutes left.”

“I can probably finish in five.”

You bit your bottom lip. How did you end up in this predicament all over again? Although this time, you felt like you had the upper hand, and somehow, it was strangely exciting to see him so affected, to have him practically begging for your touch when you were supposed to be in a hurry.

He looked at you expectantly. How could you say no when his eyes were wide and pleading? 

“You know what?” You turned to him fully, taking a step forward. “I think you deserve it. It’s your first day back, after all.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached for him again. His breath hitched slightly as you undid his belt and slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. His arousal strained against the fabric and you briefly met his gaze. Without a word, you slid your hand inside his pants, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He felt full in your hand and painfully hard. When his response was nothing but his ragged breathing, you reached for the waistband of his briefs with your other hand, pulling down slightly until his cock was freed from its confines. 

“Spence, you’re so…” Your voice trailed off, eyes fixated on him. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. You were mesmerized by his size; it wasn’t too big nor too small, just perfect.

“You’re so pretty.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he looked back at you. “You think so?”

You nodded, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. A droplet of wetness glistened on the tip, and unable to resist, your thumb brushed along it, earning a sharp intake of breath from him as his hips instinctively bucked against your touch. With a newfound confidence, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness pulsating against your palm. 

The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you couldn’t believe you were finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.

“Do you mind if I spit on it?”

He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall. “No.”

“Really? Coming from someone who’s germaphobic?” You smiled amusedly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about hygiene."

"I'll make an exception for this."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. Trusting your instincts, you craned your neck down and let the liquid spill from your mouth, coating his tip in a steady flow. Your saliva glistened in the light, slowly trickling down the length of his cock. Then you began to stroke him gently, you felt him respond eagerly, his breaths growing heavier and his hips rocking gently against your hand.

His head fell back against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, that feels…” 

Feeling a surge of pride at his reaction, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Is this how you touched yourself in the bathroom?”

He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he met your gaze. 

“Were you thinking of me?” You pressed on. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”

His response was barely a whisper, but you caught it. “Yes…”

His breath was warm against your face, and you looked up, taking in the way he was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as soft moans slipped out of his mouth. Who would’ve thought he made the prettiest sounds? You knew he was trying to keep his voice down, but the sight of him struggling to suppress his pleasure only made it more thrilling.

“Or did you imagine me getting on my knees, taking you in my mouth?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you traced your tongue along your bottom lip. “Did you picture yourself deep inside of me, how tight and wet I would be?”

His forehead dipped until it was resting against yours, breaking the self-control he was desperately trying to maintain. “Oh god—I-I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your response was simply to increase your speed, your fist moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock. He was slick with arousal, and you focused your attention on the sensitive tip, prompting even louder sounds of pleasure from him.

“Wait—" he gripped your wrist, forcing you to stop. “I’m so close.”

You frowned, watching the conflict play out in his expression. "I thought you wanted this?"

“I know, it’s just—“ His brows furrowed, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control. Then, with a defeated sigh, he admitted, “I don’t want to make a mess.”

You scanned the room, your mind racing for a solution. The office offered no privacy, and there was nothing around to help clean up the mess he would definitely make, so you needed a different approach.

Without hesitation, you got down on your knees.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re gonna—” he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Shh,” you hushed, lightly hitting his thigh. “Just help me hold my hair up.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, he reached out, gathering your hair in his hands. You felt the warmth of his fingers against your scalp, his touch gentle yet firm. You leaned in, your mouth hovering just inches from his swollen tip as you glanced up, meeting his eyes one last time before you took him into your mouth.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you could feel every twitch and throb as you wrapped your lips around him. His grip on your hair tightened, a guttural moan escaping his lips, your tongue swirling around his tip, tasting the salty bead of arousal that had formed there. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you took him deeper, jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth while wrapping your hand around what was left.

You moved slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. It didn’t take long until your mouth was working in tandem with your hand, creating a rhythm that had his body shaking. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft moans, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. There you were, hiding behind an empty office with the potential of getting caught. 

But you didn’t care, nor did Spencer, as he held your hair and bucked his hips into your mouth. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. He was so, so close, and you wanted to push him over the edge. You quickened your pace, your mouth moving up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to create a tighter seal.

His moans grew louder, and you could tell he was struggling to keep quiet. “Please,” he whined, his voice strained. “I-I’m gonna…”

A choked gasp cut off his words as he reached his climax, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, pulsing waves. You swallowed him down, savoring the taste of him, the warmth spreading through you as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with a hint of disbelief and awe.

As he slowly came down from his high, his grip on your hair loosened, and he gently helped you to your feet. "That was..." he trailed off, still catching his breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I think you deserved it,” you said before pointing a finger at him. “But we can’t keep doing this at work.”

He looked at you, amusement and disbelief dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his clothes. You could almost read his thoughts: you were the one who initiated this, not once, but twice. The first time might have been out of panic, but this time, it was all you.

“I’m serious,” you said, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Now that you’re back, we should keep a certain distance between us. No more sneaking around.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But then you watched as his expression suddenly shifted, as if he remembered something and his smile turned into a frown followed by the furrow of his eyebrows.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you, his hands sinking into the front pockets of his slacks. “I haven’t told this to anyone but… there’s a condition to my reinstatement.”

“What do you mean?” 

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “For every hundred days that I spend on the field, I’m required to take thirty days off.” 

You blinked, processing the information. “Wait, what? So you’re not fully back?”

“Technically I am, just not how I want it to be.”

You watched as his shoulders slightly fell. “You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“What am I supposed to do on my days off? A whole month of sitting around in my apartment doing nothing?”

You took a step closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re not going to be sitting around doing nothing. Think of it as an opportunity. You can catch up on your reading, maybe even take a trip somewhere.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I want to be out there, doing my job, helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t give your best if you’re burnt out. These breaks could help you recharge, keep you sharp.”

He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just feel like I’m being benched, like they don’t trust me fully.”

You tugged his arm, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey, they trust you. This is about keeping you safe. After everything you went through… Spence, you deserve this break. They just want to make sure you’re at your best every time you’re back in the field.”

When he didn’t seem to fully absorb your words, you pressed on.

“Think about it, you have so many options. You could pick up a new hobby, spend more time with your mom... or finally visit those places you’ve always talked about. Like that museum you mentioned before, what was it called again?”

His gaze softened as he listened to your suggestions. "The Smithsonian," he replied after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “I've always wanted to spend a whole day there without rushing.”

"Exactly! Now you'll have the time to do that."

He nodded slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I guess you're right.”

“See? It’s all about perspective.”

His lips curved into a smile as you both fell into silence. Then, he studied you, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in your mind through the subtle shifts of your expression.

“Will you come with me?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected question.

“You want me to come with you to the museum?”

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost quiet. "Will you?"

It was a simple question, but it held a weight that you couldn't ignore. You had spent plenty of time together, grabbing lunch, chatting at the coffee shop down the road. But this felt… different. More personal. More intimate.

And suddenly it came crashing to you. You were so absorbed in what was happening between you, the stolen kisses, the physical attraction, that you didn’t realize your friendship was never going to be the same again.

On one hand, the idea of spending more time alone with him was undeniably tempting, but the rational part of you wasn’t sure if it was the wisest thing to do. He was your friend, a good one at that, and getting emotionally involved with friends could either strengthen or strain the relationship.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you searched for the right words. But before you could answer him, both of your phones vibrated with a notification. You both looked at your own devices and read the message.

“We’re leaving now,” Spencer announced, shoving back his phone in his pocket. “We should go.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before you turned towards him. “You know what? You should head out first. I need some time to myself.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t press on. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Just give me a minute and I’ll follow behind.”

His eyes lingered on you for another second before he nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Sure, I’ll save a seat for you.”

You returned his smile, though it felt more like a grimace as you watched him exit the room. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the sudden silence, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts as the rush of emotions flooded over you. It felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to leap or retreat.

With a deep breath, you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm the fluttering inside. But the truth was undeniable—you were falling for him, and you were falling fast.

[chuluoyi]

everything, but not anything

- gojo satoru x reader

you were his last remainder of the happiest blue spring in his life, until your untimely demise. and on the death's door, he finally found you again.

genre/warnings: angsty wangsty, consolation towards the end

notes: i said i can't create gojo fics without feeling depressed, so here i present to you, angst. it's inspired from a thread in twitter i read about how gojo was given everything but he couldn't do anything and my heart just incredibly hurts and―this happened. it's unedited because the idea popped into my mind at 1 in the morning

i wrote this while listening to this wonderful song. consider it the theme song for this piece. i highly recommend you to read this and listen to it!

[update] sequel -> found you

general masterlist

You were so pretty. So really pretty, in fact. And he likes pretty things. Perhaps that was what spurred him to spontaneously ask you out.

You declined him at first―after all, he was a special grade weirdo. And you half-expected him to give up soon enough, only that he didn't. He persisted like a cockroach, smothering you with his very being. Then like a sweet romance novel, you too finally fell for him, melting at his clumsy attempts to woo you.

And by God, you were happy together. To Satoru, it was the brightest, most vibrant page in his life. And with his very being, he would do everything he could to protect you. After all, he was blessed with the best, he had all means to protect you.

He should've known better.

It started with his failed star plasma vessel mission. Riko was dead, and at that time he was just numb. Later, he made excuses. He couldn't have foreseen that a sorcerer killer would join the fray and made a mess of things.

But then his best friend, Suguru, left. Satoru couldn't make excuses any longer. For that, he was wholly responsible. From then, he realized that just being strong wasn't enough. And throughout those dark days, you were with him, consoling him as you brought his head to your chest, letting him sleep in your arms.

"Don't ever leave me, okay?" he whispered at the dead of the night with hoarse voice. It made your heart sting. You nodded and ran your fingers throughout his hair, mumbling a soft "of course."

And you never did. You were always by his side.

Satoru was really grateful for that. To have the last years of your life by his side. Looking back, it was like a beautiful mirage.

He had hidden himself behind the facade of the strongest. The unreachable. Untouchable. It felt nice, still is. Before he had known it, he had drawn this line between himself and other people. Between him and you. He wasn't lonely, but he was at the very same time.

And perhaps he had gotten way too arrogant, and thus the heavens decided to humble him.

He couldn't prevent the Shibuya Incident from happening. Worse, he fell into the enemy's hand and got sealed, and just before he was trapped inside that accursed box, he saw you die. And even after the most excruciating 19 days of his life afterwards, he couldn't do anything about it.

Your face haunted him. The tears you shed for him still lingered at the tips of his fingertips. The blood from your mouth still soaked his vision.

"Satoru..." you croaked. You were afraid. Afraid of dying, but most of all, afraid of leaving him. You had promised him once, on the bunkbed of your dorms back in Jujutsu High, that you wouldn't leave him. Tears wouldn't stop falling from your beautiful eyes.

Satoru burned that image on his mind. He wanted to hate himself with every fiber of his being, but then you said the most damnable thing possible.

"Thank you... for everything..."

And you had a smile on your face. In your last moments, you decided to convey how much he meant to you in this life. How much you cherished him. You prayed with all your heart that it would reach him.

And once again, just like the first day he saw you at the training grounds of Jujutsu High, Satoru found you to be really breathtaking. You were beautiful even as you laid dying. Even as his visions were obscured as he fell into the darkness.

Inside the prison realm where time passed long and uncertain, he made himself numb once again.

You were his most cherished figment of the most precious memory held in his heart―the three years of his youth. He wouldn't have changed anything about it. He was devastated, severely so, but so did the sweetness aftertaste he felt.

Your feelings reached him, and because of that, even if the road ahead was long and hard and painful, he would stay on that road.

If it meant he could meet you again on the other side of this dream... he'd stay and move towards tomorrow, no matter how bleak it was.

When his comrades freed him from the prison realm, he gained knowledge that most people he knew were also dead during his absence. Nanami. Yaga. The students.

Perhaps it was his curse. To be blessed with everything, but not being able to do anything about it.

He had nothing more to lose when he fought against Sukuna. He gave it his all. Everything his life had led him to―he put it all on the line.

And suddenly―suddenly, he was back to the happiest chapter of his youth. Everyone was there. Suguru was there. Nanami, Haibara, even Riko.

And you.

On the other side of that dream, you were once again standing before him, in your old uniform, just like when you’d get ready for a class so many years ago, and with the smile he fell in love with. The smile he would gladly fight the world for.

"Satoru," you called, breathless, but just like before you left him the first time, you frowned and your eyes suddenly glistened with tears. "Why... are you here? How did you―"

But you choked back your tears when he ran to you and pulled you into his arms so tightly. You heard him grunt, and then to your surprise, slightly sob.

Now he is no longer Gojo Satoru, the strongest. He is back to a young sorcerer wanting so badly to live his youth to the fullest, happiest.

"You lied to me," he reprimanded you amidst his weeping. "You left. You freaking left―"

Your vision blurred. "I'm sorry..."

Satoru let you go to have a good look at you. You were no longer bleeding. Your insides were intact. Just a little crying because you couldn't help it.

"I love you, you know that right?" he blurted with the most sullen expression he could muster. He turned back into the child-boy you somehow fell in love with.

"Satoru," you breathed out, anxious. "You shouldn't be here―"

"I should," he cut you with a firm tone. "I have no regrets. I have done what I can, and now―"

"But the others―they need you! They need you, Satoru."

He drooped his head. He had thought it over too, but he had come to a final conclusion. "No. They don't."

Maybe it was finally the time to let go of it. It was time to just... pass it over. No more interventions. No more tipping the balance of the world itself.

Immediately, you understand what he means. Gojo Satoru has served his purpose. There was nothing left that he must and could do.

"You waited long, huh?" you whispered with tears, yet a smile bloomed on your face.

"I did."

"Then... now that you're here," you offered your hand towards him, and then looked at the faces of your friends. They were all beaming at you and him, waiting for this exact moment.

You stared at him fondly, lovingly.

"Would you... walk this road with me once again?"

Satoru snapped his head. He nodded at you with pure certainty, zero hesitation. "Yes."

He took your hand, grasping it tightly in his.

"Even when there's a possibility that you have to walk to the other side of a nightmare again?”

"I would," Satoru resolutely replied.

Because it's you, he would. He'd willingly and gladly cross the throes of hell and set out on this lonely yet hopeful journey, just to meet you.

You chuckled at him heartily, and Satoru felt the immense love he held for you as the two of you walked towards tomorrow, without regrets.

It may be his curse, to have everything yet nothing at the same time. But each time he would be faced with this decision, he'd remember that feeling and let go of everything just for this very chance to live a life with you again.

[theostrophywife]

written in the stars.

pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: until i found you by stephen sanchez feat. em beihold. author's note: boyfriend theo is the best theo. if you're wondering, then yes writing this hurt me as much as it hurts reading it but like in the best way possible.

Theodore Nott has always had an affinity for the stars. 

When he was younger, Theo's mother used to take him to the rooftop of Nott Manor and point out the constellations to him. The stars told stories, his mum had said. Theo listened with rapt attention as she recounted the tales of Aquila, Heracles, and Orion as they glittered against the backdrop of the English countryside.

The two of them would make an entire evening out of it. Laying on his back atop a nest of blankets and pillows, little Theo watched as the stars climbed higher and higher, filling the horizon with hope and light. Stargazing had been their special secret. The one thing that wasn’t tainted by his abusive father. Theo guarded the memory of those nights in his heart like a priceless treasure.

After his mother’s passing, Theo continued their tradition of stargazing. Even if she was no longer alive, all he had to do was look up at the sky to feel her with him. For that reason, the stars were special to him and he’d never shared its meaning with anyone. 

Until tonight. 

“Watch your step, cara mia.” Theo said as he guided you by the small of your back. 

The dark cloth covering your eyes prohibited you from seeing, but you trusted your boyfriend to keep you from falling. Though you weren’t a fan of surprises, Theo was impossible to resist. All he had to do was flash those pretty watercolor eyes at you and you were an absolute goner. 

For you, Theo had always been the exception. 

He guided you up a staircase, keeping a firm grip on your waist as the two of you ascended. Wherever you were going, it was pretty high up. You smiled as Theo took hold of your waist, knowing that you weren't the biggest fan of heights. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. When you reached the top, Theo unfastened his tie from behind your head. 

“You can open your eyes now, sweetheart.” 

You blinked, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. The wind whistled through the stone arches of the Astronomy Tower, framing the starkissed night with its marble pillars. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the nest of blankets and pillows arranged in the middle of the wooden floor. 

“Did you do all of this for me, babe?” 

Theo smiled. “I thought you might like to go stargazing with me,” he said, his voice soft. “Do you like it, my love?” 

“I love it, Teddy.” You beamed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his nose. “But not nearly as much as I love you.” 

Theo grinned before pulling you in for a proper kiss. His lips were soft against yours and he tasted like peppermint. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your knees buckled slightly. Theo never failed to make you feel like a lovestruck school girl. It never stopped feeling like this despite how many times you kissed this boy.

As if reading your thoughts, Theo smiled against your lips. “Come on, Y/N. I want to show you my favorite constellations.” 

The two of you laid down beneath the stars, making yourself comfortable amidst the blankets and pillows. Wordlessly, Theo pulled you into his arms and you nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of sea salt spray and sun kissed skin. 

“Tell me the story of the stars, Teddy.” 

He smiled, brushing your hair back. “That one right there is Ursa Major. Otherwise known as the Big Dipper, but if you look at the entire constellation, it actually forms a bear.” 

“I remember learning about that when I was little,” you said, gazing up at the sky. “Didn’t it have something to do with Zeus?”

Theo nodded. “In Greek mythology, the Olympian God Zeus fell in love with Callisto and got her pregnant. After she gave birth to the child, Hera was so mad she turned Callisto into a bear.” 

“That hardly seems fair,” you responded with a frown. 

“Zeus was a bit of a wanker,” Theo said in agreement. “Hera was even worse. She cursed Callisto to wander the forest for years in bear form until she was hunted by her own son Arcas. Just as he raised his spear to strike her down, Zeus stepped in and sent them up to the heavens. Callisto as Ursa Major and Arcas as Bootes.” 

“The Greek gods were truly a piece of work,” you replied. “But at least we got those constellations out of them."

You squinted, pointing at the cluster of stars hovering in the east. “What’s that one?” 

“That’s the constellation of Leo,” explained Theo. “Named after the Nemean lion that Heracles defeated during the first of his twelve labours.” 

“Didn’t he make a cloak out of the lion’s pelt?” 

“Smart girl,” Theo said proudly. “The cloak made Heracles invincible and more fearsome than he already was. The Nemean lion’s heart is made up of the star Regulus, which is associated with the arrival of spring.” 

“The Little King. I read that it burns hotter than the sun.” 

Theo couldn’t help but smile. Before he met you, he never thought he’d find someone to share such a special and intimate thing with. He was worried that no one else would understand his love for the stars, but as he watched you peer curiously up at the sky, your nose scrunched in careful concentration, Theo felt all of his doubts fade away. 

“Regulus is unique because it can be seen in both the Northern and Southern hemispheres.” 

The blue star glittered brightly above your heads, as if it was showing off for the occasion. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed. 

Theo stared at you, at the childlike wonder shimmering in your eyes, and he felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. The gravity of what he felt for you hit him all at once. 

“Yeah,” Theo said softly, still looking at you. “Beautiful.” 

You grinned, intertwining your fingers and kissing his knuckles. “How do you know so much about the stars, Teddy?” 

“My mum taught me.” Theo answered, drawing circles on your hip. “When I was little, she used to take me to the rooftop of the manor and tell me the story behind each star. She was fascinated by them. Before she met my father, she wanted to teach astronomy at the Stati Magia.”

“The Italian School of Witchcraft?” 

Theo nodded. “My mother attended the Stati Magia, just like her mother and her mother before her. A tradition that I unintentionally broke, as nonna Lucia loves to remind me. Sometimes I think the old bat wishes that I was born a strega instead.” 

You giggled. “You would’ve been a very pretty witch.” Theo chuckled as you propped your head up in one hand. “Did your mum end up becoming a professor?”

“No,” Theo said sadly. “After I was born, my father said that her place was at the manor. He refused to move to Florence, even though he knew it was my mother’s dream.” 

You stroked his hair, nodding emphatically. Theo rarely talked about his mother. You knew that her passing was a painful subject for him, so you never pushed him to talk about it unless he wanted to.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry, my love,” you said. “But at least she was able to pass down her love of the stars to you. In a way, she lived her dream by teaching you.” 

A soft smile tugged at your boyfriend’s lips. “I suppose she did.” 

You laid back down, but this time you cradled Theo against you. He rested his head against your chest, listening to the calming sound of your heartbeat. Talking about his mother will always be hard, but you helped ease the pain. 

“What about those stars?” You asked, pointing to the north. “What did your mother tell you about them?” 

“Perseus and Andromeda,” Theo answered. “Those are actually her favorites.”

“The chained maiden.” 

Theo stirred, inclining his gaze to the horizon. “Andromeda was the Princess of Aethiopia, the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia. She was said to be very beautiful. Her mother bragged that Andromeda was fairer than the Nereids, which angered Poseidon. As punishment, the Sea God sent the creature Cetus to ravage that coast of their kingdom.” 

You nodded, recalling the story. “King Cepheus chained her to a rock and offered her as a sacrifice to appease the sea monster.” 

“Luckily for Andromeda, the hero Perseus found her before Cetus could attack again. Perseus fell in love with Andromeda and defeated the monster so he could free the princess. They ended up marrying and became king and queen of Mycenae. When they died, the goddess Athena placed them side by side in the heavens so that they would never be parted, not even by death.” 

“A love written in the stars,” you said with awe and wonder. “I can see why it’s your mother’s favorite.”

“When I was a boy, she told me that she hoped I’d experience a love like theirs, minus the sea monster of course.” You chuckled. Theo knit his brows together like he did when he was deep in thought. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “It’s sad to think that she never found her Perseus.” 

You brushed his hair back, running your fingers through his curls gently. “She might not have found her Perseus, but she did have her Theo.”

Theo turned over and looked at you. The intensity in his gaze made you shiver. He was so ingrained in your heart that it felt inaccurate to continue calling it yours.

“After she died, I never thought I’d share her stories with anyone again, but I’m glad I shared them with you.” 

“Thank you for trusting me, Theo.” You said as you placed a kiss on his temple. “It means the world to me that you not only shared your mother’s stories, but her memory as well. I would’ve loved to meet her.”

The tender smile on Theo’s face was heartbreaking. Then softly, he whispered. “She would’ve loved you, Y/N.”

Your heart cracked open, his words spilling like sunlight over every crevice, warming you from the inside out.

Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, but you forced yourself to give Theo a watery smile. “Because I’m a nerd who memorized obscure mythological facts?”

Your boyfriend smiled. “No,” he said gently, caressing your cheek. “Because you made her wish come true. You are my love written in the stars, cara mia.” 

The moonlight kissed Theo’s tan skin, the silver beams caressing his face like a lover as if the moon and the stars craved to commit his beauty to memory as badly as you did. Gods, he was breathtaking. 

This was the Teddy you knew and loved. Your Teddy.

Those watercolor eyes shimmered with emotion. “Sometimes I think the gods made you just for me, like our souls are linked in a way that neither logic nor magic can explain. Whatever it is, I think I’ve loved you since before the heavens and the earth existed and I’m fairly certain that I’d still love you even after the last star falls out of the sky.”

“You’re the love of my life, Theodore Nott.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as this boy—this beautiful boy ensnared your mind, body, and soul. “I’d find you in any universe and in any galaxy. Maybe someday we’ll be immortalized in the stars too.” 

Theo held your face in his hands. His expression was open and vulnerable, like he wasn’t afraid to lay himself bare before you. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“We’re two halves of a whole,” Theo said. “I loved you yesterday. I love you today and I’ll love you tomorrow. You’re it for me, Y/N. You and no one else.” 

“You and no one else, Teddy.” 

Under the constellations of the star crossed lovers, Theo kissed you so gently that it made your heart ache. As Andromeda and Perseus kept watch over the horizon, Theodore Nott knew one thing for certain.

Someday the stars would tell your story too.