#and when dream talked about things like trying desperately to reach out and getting nothing + the confusion of being friends one day and

[bueckii]

͏✶ FIRE AND DESIRE (PART 2) | PAIGE BUECKERS.

synopsis. things get awkward after that kiss. you try to move on; go on that date, pretend it didn’t mean something, thinking that’s what she would’ve wanted—but, in reality, you’re all paige can think about.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader content warnings. # 12k words. MDNI. college au. friends to lovers. slight angst. smut. slow burn (ish). uconn!paige. best friend!paige. jealous!paige. student!reader. mentions of alcohol. top!paige. bottom!reader. soft sex. oral sex (r! recieving). hickeys/marking. slight overstimulation. paige cums untouched. tw: a man a/n. finally posting this lol. this is a continuation of the one shot i made a while ago, so i recommend reading that one first. part one here! (this is not proofread lol)

taglist. @iluvbuckets @iknowwhatyoutellyourfriends @cowboybueckers @evanpeterstoe @swiftie4evr @legendaryrebelpersona @the--carousel @pupbistro @dietpepsicorpsebride @cambells0up @isabellesw0rld @yogurtsm00thie

͏✶ talk about you like you’ll never leave his side… but i don’t really buy it …

paige couldn’t stop thinking about you.

she hasn’t seen you all week. not really. not because she didn’t want to. god, she wanted to. only a couple texts here and there. not a lot. half-hearted. nothing like before. and every time she thought about reaching out, her thumbs would hover over the screen, typing and deleting the same shit over and over again.

she figures you’ll probably get upset about the fact that she doesn’t reach out. she knows it’s her fault, really. 

but, lately, she’s been getting stuck in her head. what if you regret it? what if she messed it all up? what if you don’t even wanna talk to her anymore? 

it’d been days since you kissed her, and her mind hadn’t shut off since. she could still feel you. your hands on her neck, the way your fingers played with her hair. the warmth of your thigh under her palm. the way you whispered against her mouth. god, she couldn’t stop thinking about your lips. the way you tasted. the way they moved against hers. she kept replaying it. over and over and over. the way your bottom lip trembled just slightly before you kissed her back. the way gasped when she kissed you a little deeper. the way you let out that tiny, shaky moan against her mouth. 

she hadn’t been sleeping right. laid up in bed every night, eyes wide open, heart racing, thinking of all the things she probably should’ve said.

she kept checking her phone like a damn addict—hoping for a text. anything.

but you don’t say much.

and deep down, she knew she was supposed to say something first. you’d kissed her, trusted her, asked her to show you something you had little experience in.

but all paige had done since then… was freeze. she didn’t know what to say when she wanted to text you. 

everything afterwards felt off.

her routine didn’t feel like her anymore. her days felt too long. her nights too short. food didn’t hit the same. music didn’t sound right. even the gym—basketball—felt too damn loud. or sometimes, too damn empty. she really couldn’t get you out of her mind. no matter how many times she told herself to lock in, to just shake it all off… you were everywhere. in the back of her thoughts during drills. in the corners of her dreams when she managed to sleep. on the tip of her tongue when she opened her phone, just to stare at your name without sending anything.

her body ached for you, and she hated that it sounded that dramatic—but it was the truth. because it wasn’t just the fact that you kissed her. that you let her kiss you. 

it was you. and your lips. your mouth. how you touched her, like you weren’t totally sure what you were doing but trusted her to guide you through it anyway. how you leaned into her kiss, moaned against her mouth, desperate, like you wanted her to keep going but didn’t know how to ask. that moment played on a loop in her head. every time she tried to move on, her mind constantly dragged her back to it. and now, after tasting you—after finally having just a piece of what she’d wanted for so long—she couldn’t go back to pretending she was okay with being just friends.

and honestly, paige used to handle it fine. she’s been doing it for years. 

in the beginning, she thought it was just a little crush. nothing serious. just something that’ll go away eventually. 

and you were pretty. gorgeous. that was part was easy. she used to sit next to you on purpose, just close enough to smell whatever perfume you wore, and maybe ask you for a pen just so that you’d look at her and roll your eyes before digging through your back even though she already had a pen. 

so yeah, okay. maybe she stared too long sometimes. maybe she looked at your lips more than she should’ve. maybe she started thinking about you when she was supposed to be focused on film or practice or literally anything else.

but it was just a crush. right?

yeah, well… it didn’t go away.

and when you kissed her, everything she’d been trying to hold back all came rushing up. 

now, she needed more.

at practice, she was more distracted than she’d ever been. she thinks about you while she’s in the locker room, thinks about you while she zones out in team huddles, thinks about you while chewing her lip raw while coach ran down the plan during practice. 

but there are only three sentences in her mind that repeats over and over and over… i miss her. i need her. i want her again.

paige wanted to tell you how she felt. god, she wanted to so bad.

it sat in her mind, begging to come out every time she thought about you—which was all the time. but every time she even thought about texting you, calling you, seeing you again—she froze.

what would she even say? everything sounded stupid in her head. too much. she didn’t know if it was just a kiss for you. maybe just an experiment. a thank you, even.

and the thought of that—of it meaning less to you than it did to her—it made her sick.

because it meant everything to her.

͏✶

you didn’t think much of the dress you chose to wear for tonight. it was a simple summer dress, the kind of thing you forgot you even had until you started rifling through your closet in a panic. it’s pretty but you weren’t really trying to impress anyone. you just didn’t want to look like you rolled out of bed. you kept telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal—it’s just a movie—but still, you checked the mirror three times. adjusted the hem. made sure the zipper was up all the way. fixed your hair, then undid it and fixed it again.

you told yourself it wasn’t because you were nervous.

you told yourself it wasn’t because of paige.

matt had been texting you all day—mostly sweet stuff. he was nice. respectful. he asked about your favorite movie snacks, said he’d pick you up a little early because he didn’t want to miss the trailers, and even texted you about hitting some off-campus college after to spend more time together. 

you stared at that last message for a second longer than you meant to. you didn’t reply right away. you didn’t know why your stomach twisted when you imagined going.

but you forced a small smile at your reflection, smoothed the fabric over your hips, and told yourself again—it’s just a movie. you repeated it in your head while slipping on your heels.

you’d go, sit beside matt, eat some popcorn, maybe laugh at the cheesy previews, maybe chat during the slow parts. just hang out. just… watch a movie. maybe kiss him.

your chest tightened at the thought. and suddenly it wasn’t matt’s face you saw in the dark theater, leaning in beside you.

it was paige. 

you closed your eyes for a second, but it didn’t help. you could still feel her. you weren’t even touching her anymore, but your body remembered all of it. every detail.

then, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking hard at your reflection. 

just a movie, you whispered to yourself again.

your phone buzzed just as you grabbed your bag. you weren’t expecting anything—maybe matt, saying he was outside, maybe riley checking in. but when you glanced down at the screen, it felt like your heart stopped for a second.

paige: if matt says some dumb shit or makes you uncomfortable or whatever just call me or sumn.

you stared at it, fingers hovering over your screen, unsure what to even say back.

paige was thinking about you.

you lips curl into a soft smile, before replying back. 

you: i’ll call if i need you 

you put your phone away after you sent that message.

the air was cool as matt pulled up outside your dorm, his car parked just in front of the building as he waited. you grabbed your bag, smoothing your dress one last time before sliding into the passenger seat. he greeted you with a warm smile, eyes bright and a little nervous like he wanted everything to be perfect tonight.

throughout the ride, matt was respectful—more than you expected. he kept the conversation light, complimenting you.

“you look really pretty tonight,” he said once. or “that dress really suits you.”

you nodded, forcing a small smile, trying to match his charm, but inside you felt a bit awkward—like you were pretending to be someone who could just go on a date without a million thoughts swirling around your head. the care radio played softly in the back as you both talked about the movie and what you liked, what you were hoping to see, the snacks you planned to grab. matt was a good listener, genuinely interested, but you couldn’t help but feel… unsure. 

when you arrived at the theater, you both found your seats, getting comfortable in the dark. your hands folded neatly in your lap, legs crossed at the ankles, pretending to be at ease.

matt really was nice. thoughtful. his arm rested politely on the shared armrest, close but not touching. every now and then, he’d lean over to whisper something light and you’d smile, nod, let out a soft laugh. he was sweet. polite. exactly the kind of guy people said you should give a chance. he told you that you looked beautiful when he saw you, and he meant it. 

but still… was this really what you wanted?

you sat there beside him, staring ahead, and couldn’t shake the feeling blooming in your chest. like something was missing.

and about halfway through the movie, you felt it—a soft nudge against your hand. you blinked, glancing down. matt’s fingers brushed yours again, hesitant at first, then bolder, letting them settle lightly against the back of your hand like he was testing the waters.

you froze. not out of fear. not because you felt unsafe. but because something about it felt wrong. off.

you tried to stare ahead at the screen. and then, slowly, like it had been planned all night, matt leaned in. you felt his eyes on you. your profile, your mouth. your stomach flipped. not in the same way she made you feel. he was staring at your lips like he’d been waiting for the right moment, and this was it. he tilted his head slightly, and you turned toward him totally out of instinct—eyes wide, not knowing what to say, how to stop it, or if you even should—

and then his lips were on yours.

they were soft, warm, slightly chapped. not rough. not bad…

just… not right.

you kissed him back—barely. more like a twitch of habit than an actual effort. your mind blanked. your hands stayed frozen in your lap. your chest stayed still. 

no spark. no rush.

nothing.

it was awkward. 

and he was trying, being gentle, respectful, careful… but suddenly, your mind was somewhere else.

suddenly, you were back in paige’s dorm, with her fingers resting on the soft skin of your thigh, her mouth coaxing yours open like she’d dreamed about it a thousand times before.

you pulled back first, blinking fast, trying to smile as you reached for the popcorn again like nothing happened.

and matt gave a quiet laugh, sheepish. “sorry, was that okay?”

you nodded automatically.

nothing else happened after that. he didn’t try to kiss you again. he didn’t reach for your hand. he just sank back into his seat. you sat there in silence, eyes on the screen but mind anywhere else as your heart beat too loud in your chest. 

when the movie ended, matt stood up and stretched, put on half of a smile and you followed him out of the theater. 

he asked if you still wanted to head to the party. and you said yes, even though you weren’t sure why. the word left your mouth before you really thought it through, honestly. and he smiled, nodded, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets like it was exactly what he hoped you’d say.

you told yourself maybe it’d be better—less awkward—with other people around. maybe being surrounded by music, chatter, and movement ease the tension. 

you trailed beside him through the lot, your heels clicking against the pavement, the cool air nipping at your arms. you were already dreading the moment it’d be just the two of you again, standing by his car or in the front of your dorm at the end of the night—bracing for the part where you’d have to let him down easy. tell him he’s a great guy. that you’re just not feeling it. that it wasn’t about him.

and no matter how nice matt was, no matter how well he treated you—he wasn’t the one you wanted to feel that way about.

͏✶

paige hadn’t even planned on going to the party.

she’d already half-decided on staying in, crawling into bed, watching grey’s anatomy for the millionth time, and maybe passing out before midnight if her mind would let her. it wasn’t like she didn’t want to be around people… it was just that everything felt kind of dull lately. muted. like no matter how loud the music or how packed the house would be, her brain would still be playing that same memory over and over.

you. your lips.

and she was trying. god, she was trying to get over it.

but now the whole team was going—just another athlete from uconn’s birthday party in one of those big houses just off campus. music, drinks, people from all over the university, the kind of party where no one ever really remembered who invited who.

at first, paige waved it off. said she was going to stay in when when azzi asked if she was going, and again when kk tried to bribe her with her tru fru in the fridge. 

but by the time she was alone in her room, the silence got too loud. and already just a minute alone, she was already thinking about you.

was it going well? were you still out with matt? did he kiss you? did you let him?

“fuck,” she muttered under her breath and sat up, rubbing her hands down her face. 

maybe a party wasn’t such a bad idea after all. at least there’d be noise. people. drinks. a distraction. anything to pull her out of her head for a couple hours. 

so she got dressed. nothing too much—some baggy pants, a clean black hoodie, her chain around her neck. she tied her hair up messily, threw on her sneakers, and left before she could change her mind.

the party was already alive when paige got there. music boomed from speakers too big for the living room, bodies packed wall to wall, red solo cups in every hand.

she stepped inside and felt it all hit her at once.

but she didn’t hesitate.

she spotted azzi and kk first—leaned up by the kitchen counter with aubrey and ice, already halfway into their second drinks, talking with some guys from the track team. azzi waved her over instantly, eyes lighting up as she yelled paige’s name through the noise.

“hey! you finally made it.”

paige grinned, playing it off like she wasn’t two seconds away from bailing earlier. 

“you thought i was gon’ let y’all have fun without me?” she said, slipping into the circle, dapping up ice and throwing her arm around kk’s shoulder.

“look at you tryna act like you weren’t just in your bed watchin’ greys,” ice teased, already laughing.

paige rolled her eyes, smirking. “first of all, grey’s anatomy is peak. put some respect on meredith’s name.”

they cracked up, and just like that, paige settled into room. she kept the energy up, laughing, talking shit, hyping up her girls, taking playful shots at aubrey’s outfit, nodding her head and doing the little shoulder bounce when a song she liked came on.

but no matter how much time she spent here, paige couldn’t stop checking her phone. she kept it in her pocket, fingers brushing against it every few minutes like muscle memory to pull it out and glance at the screen—just to see nothing. she shoves it back. tries to focus. laughs at something dumb kk said. nodding along to azzi’s story about some freshman trying to flirt with her after class.

but her hand always drifted back. she didn’t even realize how often she was doing it until aubrey gave her a look and nudged her playfully.

“you waiting on a text or something?”

paige forced a half-smile, eyes back on her screen. still nothing from you. just a couple random notifications—snapchat from someone she didn’t care about, an instagram tag, but nothing that made her excited the way your name would.

“nah,” she lied. “just checkin’ the time.”

but it was late now. later than she thought it’d get without hearing from you.

she just… wondered if you were okay.

if you were having fun. if he was being good to you. if he said something stupid, or tried to touch you, or kissed you when you didn’t want him to.

she hated how easily her brain jumped to those things. hated how it made her chest feel tight and itchy, like she had to dosomething even though she couldn’t.

you weren’t hers.

but thirty minutes later, just as paige was halfway through sipping a cup of shirley temple that azzi shoved into her hand, she saw you. 

you walked in through the front door with matt beside you, his hand sliding smooth around your waist and paige—she froze.

the cup hovered midair for a second before she blinked, slowly lowering it. her friends kept talking around her, but their voices blurred and faded away instantly the linger she looked at you. 

you hadn’t seen her yet. but she saw everything.

she saw the way you hesitated the moment you stepped further into the house, eyes darting around like you weren’t sure where to stand, or who to greet first. she saw the way matt leaned in to say something close to your ear, the way you tilted your head politely and nodded, but didn’t smile the way you normally did when something made you laugh.

but god—you looked so good.

paige couldn’t stop staring. she told herself to look away. just once. just for a second. but she didn’t. she couldn’t.

that sundress on you—fuck.

it was soft, a color that made your skin glow under the dim party lights, and it moved when you walked, swaying around your thighs. it hugged you in the right places, loose in others. your hair was done, your lip gloss shimmered under those tacky party lights, and your arms were crossed loosely in front of you. 

she had to drop her eyes for a second, tongue swiping over her bottom lip, jaw tight. she gripped the cup in her hand as if she could stop herself from imagining how your waist would feel in her hands.

because matt’s hand was there now. on you.

and it made her sick.

paige felt heat crawl up the back of her neck. jealousy wasn’t even the right word. it was something worse. something bitter. because matt wasn’t even doing anything wrong. not really. he was just… holding you like you were a trophy. like you were some prize he’d earned just by asking. like he knew every guy in the room would be looking and that was the whole point.

and you looked beautiful and uncomfortable all at the same time. paige saw it in the slight downturn of your mouth. the way you shifted in his hold, fingers fiddling with the strap of your bag.

she knew that face. she read you.

you weren’t having fun. you were pretending.

and then—you found her.

your eyes met hers and paige went still, all the bitterness on her face melted. completely gone. she straightened up slightly, tilting her head, raising her eyebrows to say hi silently.

then, she mouthed, “you okay?”

your mouth curled into the softest smile. not a big one, but paige saw it.

you nodded.

she returned it with a smaller smile.

then, paige watched matt lean in toward you as he said something near your ear. she saw the way your body tilted away slightly, your shoulder pulling back, your smile going a little stiff.

matt left you after that, saying something with a crooked smile before disappearing through the crowd, headed toward the kitchen. 

and unfortunately, that was where paige had already parked herself—leaned up against the counter with some of her teammates, her friends, trying her best to stay out the way, out the conversation, out of everything before she did something dumb.

she minded her business. she really did. sipped her drink, stared down at her phone, played it cool. 

until one of matt’s friends walked up next to him.

they dapped each other up and started talking sports, class, exams, who was pulling who this weekend—nothing she cared about.

she didn’t mean to hear the next part, but she did.

“yo,” one of his friends said, patting his back, “that girl you came with… she’s hot as fuck, man. you hit it yet?”

and matt—he fucking laughed. laughed like it was funny. like it was just a matter of time. 

he leaned his elbow onto the counter, lifted his drink to his lips, and said, “not yet… working on it, though. i think she likes all that romantic shit.”

like you were a job to finish. like you were just some easy bet.

paige didn’t even realize how fast her face dropped.

she stared at matt for a second, silent, clenching her jaw hard, her fingers curling tighter around her cup. she blinked once. then twice.

then she set her drink down on the counter and walked away.

her eyes scanned the room until she found you again. she found standing by group next to your friend riley, fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

you didn’t see her coming.

but paige was already pushing through the bodies, not even hearing her name when kk—was it kk? or azzi? or aubrey? she doesn’t know—called for her across the room. her hands were still shaking a little as she walked. she didn’t know what she was going to say. didn’t even care. she just needed to get to you. all she knew was that you didn’t deserve to be talked about like that. not by him. not by anybody.

you didn’t even seen her coming. 

one second, you were standing there half-listening to a conversation you weren’t really part of—and the next, paige was there, standing close.

you blinked, a little startled, heart skipping. then, paige leaned in, just enough that only you could hear her.

“can i talk to you for a sec?” she asked. 

her brows were slightly pulled together you felt your heartbeat tick up, and slowly, you nodded.

“… yeah,” you said, looking at her a little confused. 

paige didn’t smile. she just nodded once and gently reached for your wrist as she tilted her head toward the hallway.

and you followed without question.

paige led you down some hallway, away from the crowd. the hallway lights were dim, flickering slightly from a shitty bulb overhead, but she still looked nervous under it.

you leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, heart still fluttering as you looked at her. and paige just stood there for a second, hands stuffed into the front pocket of her hoodie, jaw clenched, staring at the floor before she finally spoke.

“i—” she started, but her voice cracked. she cleared her throat, looked up at you. “i saw matt in the kitchen. he was… he said—“

she stopped and looked at you. would this hurt your feelings if she told you?

your furrowed your brows together as you waited. but paige just swallowed the lump in your throat, shook her head a little like she was trying to talk herself down.

you blinked. “he what?”

“i don’t wanna piss you off,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “i just—i just wanted to check on you.”

you stared at her. “you pulled me aside for that?”

paige flinched a little at your tone. she opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“you haven’t talked to me all week. this is the second time, paige,” you snapped at her, trying not to raise your voice. “i haven’t seen you, i barely even hear from you, and now you wanna show up and act like you care?”

“i do care.” paige winced and shook her head. “i wasn’t tryin to be like that, ma, i just—”

“then, why’d you disappear?”

paige couldn’t answer. she had it in her head, but saying it aloud was… different. she didn’t know how to say i’ve been losing my mind over you. or i want you so bad, it’s messing with my head.

she looked cornered. guilty. her lips parted, but the words didn’t come fast enough.

you shook your head, heart beating fast as you turned away. “forget it, paige.”

“wait—”

but you were already walking towards the door to the bathroom in the hallway and before paige could follow—the door shut right in her face.

she stood there, blinking. stunned.

then, she reached for the handle and tried to twist it open. locked. fuck.

“(y/n), open the door.”

she tried the handle again.

“c’mon… please.”

but you didn’t answer.

paige let out a long sigh and leaned forward, resting her forehead gently against the door. after a moment, she stepped backwards, dragging a hand down her face, then leaned her back against the wall across from the door… and waited.

she didn’t care who walked past, who saw her, who might start whispering about how bueckers looked all spaced out and weird in the hallway.

she was gonna wait.

her friends were probably wondering where she was by now. azzi had texted her a little while ago, but paige hadn’t checked her phone. she hadn’t even moved from the spot since you slammed the door. not one step.

ten minutes passed. at least, she thought it was ten. it felt longer. way longer.

her long legs stretched out in front of her and her fingers tugged at the strings of her hoodie over and over, just to keep herself busy. to keep from knocking again. she didn’t want to push. but god, she hated how long it was taking. not because she was impatient—but because she was scared that she’d really blown it.

but then, the door clicked softly, opening just a crack.

paige’s eyes snapped toward it. for a second, she didn’t move, unsure if she imagined it. but then the door eased open another inch, and she could finally see you. she stood up straighter instantly, her back pulling off the wall, her feet taking a few steps closer. 

you blinked at her, cheeks tinted pink as you murmured, “i… i need help with my zipper… it got stuck.”

paige stared for half a second longer, her brows raised in surprise, lips parting just slightly.

then she nodded, almost too quickly.

“y-yeah, yeah—i got you.”

she followed as you opened the door just enough for her to slip inside, stepping into the bathroom with you and quietly closing the door behind her. the bathroom was small. 

you stood in front of the mirror, not looking at her, just reaching up to gather your hair and move it to one side, exposing the line of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the dip of your spine.

the zipper sat halfway down your back, caught just where the fabric curved around your waist. your dress gaped slightly on your back, exposing the lace trim of your black bra underneath—

paige froze for half a second. she swallowed hard, eyes dragging up the length of your back, then back down again.

her fingers twitched at her sides.

“paige,” you said, bringing her back to reality. 

you watch her through the mirror. her eyes met yours through the reflection and you notice the way she clenches her jaw before stepping forward slowly. 

“sorry.”

her hand hovered for a second before she finally let her fingers graze the cool of the zipper. she let out a breath and brought her other hand up to steady the fabric, eyes focusing on your back, lips parted slightly as she tried to tug it gently. 

but her hands were shaking. just a little. 

paige tugged the zipper up slowly, and when it reached the top, she didn’t step away. she just stood there, eyes fixed on the back of your neck.

your hair was still swept to the side, skin exposed. her gaze lingered there for a moment, and then she looked up at the back of your head, the curve of your jaw, the slope of your shoulder and then back down. to your dress. to the way it hugged your body.

her hand moved before she could stop herself, her fingers trailing down softly along the center of your back, following the shape of the zipper. she felt the curve of your spine beneath her fingertips.

and when her hand reached the small of your back, paige let it rest there for a second—her palm flat, sliding to hold your waist gently. 

“i like this,” she murmured.

you still didn’t turn around.

she could see your eyes in the mirror, a little wider now, a little softer. you blinked slowly, your lips parting like you were going to say something, but nothing came out.

paige was losing her goddamn mind.

she blinked, her thumb gently rubbing a circle into the dress, fully letting her large hands rest on your waist. she shouldn’t be touching you like this, not when she still didn’t know what you wanted, but she couldn’t help it. 

she couldn’t stop looking at you. 

then, she leaned in. just a little. and her voice dropped again, barely above a whisper.

“you look really good tonight.”

your breath hitched—paige almost didn’t notice. 

and then finally, you turned around slowly. and paige’s hand dropped to her side like it didn’t know what to do now. you looked up at her and she swallowed hard, trying to so hard to fight the urge to just… close the gap.

“…i’m sorry,” she said quietly, looking into your eyes. “for earlier. for this whole week.”

and for a second, you forgot where you were—forgot about the party still going on just outside the door, about matt, and everything else outside this room.

all you could focus on was her.

paige stood in front of you, taller by just enough that you had to tilt your head back a little to meet her eyes. and you always liked that. you always liked how tall she was. more than you probably should’ve.

“i missed you,” you tell her. 

paige licks her lips again, “me too.”

you stared at her, your eyes searching hers, trying to figure out what she was thinking. 

and then, you asked, “what did matt say?”

her breath caught in her throat, her shoulders tensed, and for a second, she looked like she might lie again. like she might protect you from it. but then she inhaled sharply, her eyes dropping to the floor, and she let out a breath through her nose, clearly frustrated.

she shook her head gently.

“he’s a douche bag,” she muttered finally, glancing away from you. 

the way her jaw clenched again said enough.

the way she didn’t want to look at you when she said it.

she wanted to say what he actually said. she wanted to say how she nearly lost it right there in the kitchen. she wanted to say she hated seeing you with him, hated the thought of his hands anywhere near you.

she furrows her eyebrows before looking directly into your eyes again.

“he doesn’t talk about you like he should,” she added. “like you’re some fuckin’ checkbox on a list.”

her stomach still twisted just saying that much. because it didn’t matter how polite matt was to your face. paige knew the second she heard him speak behind your back—he wasn’t worth one second of your time.

“i wasn’t gonna tell you. not like that. i didn’t… wanna make you feel like shit.”

another pause.

“but i also didn’t wanna let you stand there thinking he was some nice guy. you deserve better than that. way better.”

she was standing so close now, you didn’t even notice when she took a step closer.

“you deserve somebody who looks at you like…”

she stopped herself.

you could feel your heart thudding under your ribs, louder now. paige stared at you, throat moving as she swallowed.

“like i look at you,” she finally said, eyes darting down to your lips.

you stared at her.

then, to her surprise, your fingers found her hand, slipping between hers, intertwining your fingers. paige looked down and a slow smile tugs at the corners of her lips. 

“you’re an idiot, you know,” you say, shaking your head with a small smile, your eyes soft as you watch paige’s face.

she doesn’t miss a beat—she nods her head immediately, obediently and a little sheepish, her grin spreading wide enough to light up the whole room.

“i know,” she mumbles, eyes locked on your soft lips.

her fingers tighten around yours just a little as she takes one more final step closer to you, trapping you between her and the bathroom counter. 

paige’s eyes flickered back up to yours, before whispering, “did you kiss him tonight?”

you looked away for a moment, swallowing hard.

“yeah,” you admitted softly. “i did.”

you can clearly see paige clench her jaw when you said it, but she didn’t say anything else—just waited for you to keep going.

“but… it didn’t feel like—” the heat spread all over your cheeks, blushing hard as she stared at you. “it didn’t feel like when you kissed me.”

paige’s lips curved up even more. it was the kind of smirk that started in one corner of her mouth and made its way up like she couldn’t hold it back even if she tried. she was getting cocky. you could tell. the kind of cocky that came from hearing exactly what she wanted to hear.

“yeah?” she said, a little smug, eyes dropping again to your lips, then back up. “that right?”

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your mouth. her free hand brushes gently against your hip. 

“could’ve told you that. ain’t no way he kiss you better than me.”

you smiled at how smug she was being. 

then, you noticed it before paige did—the way her face kept inching closer to yours, just a little bit at a time, with each passing second. and you could feel it. her soft breath on your lips. it sends a shiver down your spine. you could see it clear as day in her eyes—the way they darkened with want, the slight part of her lips. 

she wanted to kiss you. 

your eyes flicked up to hers, catching that glimpse of need swirling behind her gaze. the way her pupils dilated ever so slightly, the way she licked her her lips. the way her hand slides a little lower on your hip to pull you closer, pressing your front against hers.

paige was so close now. closer than she had any business being. 

you could tell she was trying to talk herself out of it—trying to be smart, respectful, hold back like she always did around you.

you feel her breath against your lips as she asks, “can i?”

her eyes didn’t leave yours. she didn’t lean in all the way. she waited. paige didn’t move. not even a twitch. she was frozen in that quiet anticipation, standing still like she was afraid the smallest shift might scare you off.

you saw it in the way she looked at you. how much she wanted you. how much she was trying not to take anything from you.

she wasn’t trying to rush into it, even though she wants to. as if kissing you again was a privilege. 

your throat felt tight, and you nodded before you even realized you were doing it.

“please…” you breathed.

paige’s lips parted slightly, her eyes searching your face like she needed to make absolutely sure. 

she smiled. and then, slowly, she leaned in.

her forehead brushed yours first like she still couldn’t believe this was real. for a second, she just stayed there, nose nudging yours, her hand sliding up to the small of your back, holding you in place, your body pressing against hers. you could feel her breath fan across your lips, and when she finally tilted her head just enough for her mouth to meet yours—

she kissed you. 

and you melted into it.

paige kissed you slow. so slow it almost didn’t feel real at first. her lips barely brushed yours as if she was giving you the chance to change your mind. her mouth pressed into yours again, deeper this time. soft. deliberate. her other hand found your jaw, cradling your face gently, her thumb brushing your cheek.

and her lips… god. her lips were everything.

pillowy and warm and just the tiniest bit chapped like she’d been chewing on them nervously all night. they moved slowly with yours. her nose bumped yours a little, and then, she smiled into the kiss, just barely, smiling like she couldn’t believe she had you this close again.

your arms lifted until they wrapped loosely around her neck, fingers brushing the stray hairs at the nape of her neck, right beneath her bun, and her body reacted before her mind even caught up. her breath hitched. her hand gripped your waist tighter. she kissed you deeper then, her lips parting just a little more, her mouth moving against yours like she couldn’t hold back anymore.

you pulled back just a little—barely an inch—to catch your breath, lips parted, chest rising and falling as your fingers still rested gently behind paige’s neck.

and before you could even fully take a breath, paige was already chasing your mouth. 

her lips followed yours instinctively. desperately. her mouth brushed yours again, a little clumsy this time. her hand on your waist tightened just the slightest bit. 

her nose bumped yours as she whispered breathlessly, “mm-mm, don’t pull away, ma.”

your lips were barely apart when she kissed you again, but this time, she moved faster. needier. rougher. deeper. her mouth opened just slightly against yours, and her tongue slipped in, moaning softly as she tasted you. like she was afraid it might be the only chance she’d get. and you kissed her right back. didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. your lips opened for her like it was natural. like you’d been waiting for her to get brave enough to do it.

and when you moaned into her lips—paige feels like she’s losing her mind. 

your hands at the back of her neck gripped just a little tighter, pulling her in, and paige let out a breathy noise against your mouth. a sound she didn’t even mean to make.

she kissed you like she couldn’t stop. like she didn’t want to stop.

your lips were so damn warm, soft, and addictive in a way that made her head spin. every tilt of your head, every breathy sound you made, every slow drag of your lips over hers just pulled her in deeper.

then, you pulled away again, breathing hard, lips tingling and slick from the kiss. your eyes fluttered open, barely able to think, let alone speak—and before you could say anything, paige was already moving, leaning in slow, her breath grazing your cheek, and then you felt the soft press of her mouth against the line of your jaw.

one kiss. then another. then another, lower, just under your ear. 

her hand flattened at your waist as her body pressed closer until you could feel every inch of her against you, still trapping you between her body and the cool edge of the bathroom counter.

it made your knees feel weak.

outside the door, you could still hear the muffled music pounding through the walls, but it all felt far away. like none of it mattered. because paige’s lips were moving down your neck now, brushing that sensitive spot just beneath your jaw, her mouth open just enough to let her tongue flick gently against your skin.

you gasped, your hands clutching the fabric of her shirt, and she smiled against your throat, smug breath fanning across the wet spot she left behind.

“mm,” she hummed, “you smell so fuckin’ good.”

paige kept kissing your neck, her lips moving over the curve of your throat like she needed to taste every inch of you. your jaw dropped open as you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut, your head tilting just slightly to give her more space.

and paige felt it. the way your breath hitched.

the way your fingers dug into her shoulders, holding on to her. the way your chest rose against hers like you couldn’t get enough air. she groaned low against your neck just thinking about it. 

“fuck,” she muttered under her breath. 

and then, you felt her hand sliding down your side, past your waist, then back behind you, her fingers gripping fabric of your dress. you gasped when you felt her hand bunch it up, inch by inch, pulling the hem higher and higher. her palm smoothed over the back of your thigh, fingers spread wide, grazing the top curve of your ass and—

“paige,” you breathed out, voice soft but firm, your heart racing, “paige… wait—”

you pulled back just a little, your hands pressing gently to paige’s chest, and the second you did, she froze.

her lips hovered by your jaw, parted and flushed pink as her breath came out shaky. she looked at you, eyes half lidded, blinking slow like she was trying to process what was happening, her pupils blown, lips slick and swollen. she looked drunk on you. high on your skin. your taste. your breath. your lips.

paige let out the softest sound, a little whine, as her brows knit together, a little frustrated. her lips parted again like she wanted to argue, to beg you for just one more minute, one more kiss, one more second of being that close.

but she didn’t.

instead, she exhaled hard through her nose and dropped her forehead gently against your shoulder, her hands now resting at your waist, loosening her grip. 

“i like kissing you,” she murmured, her lips brushing your collarbone. 

the party was still loud outside. muffled bass thumped through the floor beneath your feet, and someone laughed down the hall. but all of that felt so far away.

she turned her head just slightly, nose brushing your neck again, “been thinkin’ about it since that night.”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands still on your hips, thumbs brushing slow over the fabric before her eyes found yours. 

“can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” she said.

you reached up slowly, your hands trembling just a little as they cupped paige’s face, fingers settling along the sharp line of her jaw beneath your palms. your thumbs brushed over her cheeks, soft against the slight roughness of her skin. paige’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch as you held her face. 

“i’ve been thinking about you too.”

paige’s eyes slowly opened, dazed as she looked st you—like she couldn’t quite believe you were really there, really saying those words. god, she feels like she’s dreaming. fuck, she’s been dreaming about this for years. 

then, she let out a soft breath and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. her tongue darted out quickly to wet her bottom lip, that nervous little habit you’d come to recognize whenever she was trying to hold herself together. 

without breaking eye contact, her hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. then, her fingers slid lower, sliding over the curve of your hips before cupping your ass with her hands. you felt the breath hitch as paige’s hands gripped you tighter. her lips hovered near yours, her eyes drinking you in, wanting more, needing more. 

“my roommate’s… out of town this weekend,” you said. 

her eyes darted down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, her fingers flexing slightly against you, not sure if she’d heard you right. 

you felt the heat rise in your cheeks and tried to glance down, away from her eyes, but her hand on your lower back pulled you gently forward again.

“yeah?” she asked.

you nodded. 

and paige smiled.

then, her forehead dropped to yours, breath brushing your lips.

“you tryna tell me somethin’, ma?” she murmured.

you nodded.

her thumb brushed along your waist and she leaned in to kiss you again—just once. and when she pulled back, barely, her voice dipped into a whisper again, lips brushing against yours. 

“you wanna get outta here?”

͏✶

the walk back to your dorm was a blur.

you don’t really remember most of it—just the way paige held your hand the entire time, her thumb brushing soft circles against your knuckles.

paige didn’t say anything when you fumbled for your keys, just stepped in close behind you as you reached for the door.

her breath was warm against your neck.

and then, her hands. they slid around your waist, pulling you back gently, and her mouth found your jaw before you even registered it, soft lips pressing open kisses along your skin, trailing toward your ear, your neck, to your jaw again and again and… 

you gasped, your keys trembling in your hand.

“p-paige—”

“shhh,” she mumbled into your skin, already kissing lower. “just keep goin’. i got you.”

you barely got the key in the door. your fingers shook from how close she was, how her body pressed firm and slow against your back, her hands smoothing over your hips like she needed to feel every inch of you.

you tried to unlock it. you really tried—

but paige kissed your neck again, a little harder this time, nipping your skin with her teeth, and you moaned before you could stop yourself.

“fuck,” she whispered, “i could listen to that all night.”

finally, the lock clicked. 

you pushed the door open and she followed you in, still kissing you, turning you around with her big hands to lean down and kiss your lips. you stumbled inside and she kicked the door closed with her foot. her mouth never left yours.

and soon, her hands were already at the hem of her hoodie, yanking it up over her head in one swift motion.

you broke the kiss for just a second, lips parted and dazed as you watched her—her chest rising fast beneath the tight black tank top clinging to her, her hair messily loosened from the bun it had been in, some strands sticking to her forehead.

she looked wrecked already.

and god, she hadn’t even started.

she dropped the hoodie to the floor and before you could say a word, she was on you again—her hands finding your waist, then your back, then your thighs, like she didn’t know where to touch first, just that she had to. you kissed her back just as hungrily, the momentum sending you backward until the backs of your knees hit your bed.

she pulled back just enough to breathe, her lips swollen and her eyes dragging over your face like she couldn’t believe that you were real. that she was hovering over you. kissing you. in your bed. 

“take this off for me, baby.”

paige’s hands were already moving, sliding around your waist, fingers dragging down your spine until they found the zipper for the second time tonight. you stood still in front of her, chest rising fast, lips parted from where she’d just kissed. and then you felt her pull the zipper down. inch by inch.

her fingertips grazed your bare skin as the fabric loosened around your body, and the way she touched you sent heat rushing up your neck.

her eyes never left you as she lowered it. the air feels cool across your skin as the dress gave way, sliding down your shoulders, slipping over your hips, and pooling silently at your feet.

paige froze when she looked at you. completely still.

her eyes dragged over every inch of you like it was the first time she’d ever really seen you.

she didn’t say anything for a second. just let her eyes trail down the curve of your neck, your chest, the lace of your bra, the lines of your waist, your thighs.

you loved how she looked at you. 

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” she stepped in close again, her palms finding your hips. 

your voice barely made it out. soft, breathy, your heart thudding so loud you swore she could hear it.

“paige, i… i don’t really know how to—”

paige leaned in, her hand coming up gently to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your skin so softly it made your stomach twist.

“i know, ma,” she murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth before you could say another word. then again, lower—your jaw. your neck.

she looked up at you as her thumb stroked your cheek.

“i’ll take care of you,” she says, smiling. “you don’t gotta worry about a thing.”

then she stepped even closer, her nose brushing yours, lips ghosting over your mouth.

“imma take my time. imma treat you real good. you trust me, right?”

you nod and she pecks your lips.

“tell me, mama.”

you reach up and wrap your arms loosely over her shoulders as she leans down, her hands still on your hips.

“i trust you.”

paige smiled again. 

her lips still trail over yours, then down your jaw. when she kissed the side of your neck this time, it was slower. less hungry. more… intentional.

“tell me if you wanna to stop,” she told you. “say the word, and i’ll stop. for real.”

you shake your head, “i want you, paige.”

you didn’t want her to stop.

so you leaned up just enough, your hand sliding into her hair, messy and a little loose, almost falling out of her bun. 

you kissed her first this time.

and paige melted into it.

for moment, she pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching your face like she needed to  make sure you were sure again. and when she saw the way you were looking at her—her breath caught in her throat. 

she leaned down, kissed you slow once more, then gently guided you back, laying you down across your bed. she was gentle. like she was lucky just to touch you.

you sank into the mattress, heart pounding as paige hovered above you. her hand brushes lightly over your side, watching your eyes, then she sat up. 

without a word, she reached for the hem of her black tank top and pulled it over her head, revealing her sports bra, the muscles in her arms flexing as she did. she tossed the shirt aside, then brought her hands to the button of her jeans. 

you watched, barely breathing, as she popped it open. slid the zipper down. slowly. 

and eased the denim down her hips.

she watched your eyes as she undressed, making sure you were watching her. you see her smirk, a soft chuckle leaving her lips when she sees you roll your eyes at how smug she’s being right now. 

soon enough, she stepped out of them, now left in just her boxers and her bra.

god—she was beautiful. tall. lean. strong.

“still okay?” she asked. 

“yeah,” you nodded. barely a whisper. “i want you.”

and paige smiled softly, a little crooked, “aight then.”

she couldn’t help but stare for a moment. 

paige hovered above you, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your hips, her hands planted on either side of your head like she was caging you in. 

she looked down at you—laid out beneath her in nothing but that fucking black lace, the same one she’d gotten a glimpse of in the bathroom, the one she hadn’t stopped thinking about since—fuck.

it was like the air had been knocked clean out of her chest.

her eyes dragged over every inch of you. the rise of your chest. the curve of your stomach. the way your thighs pressed together nervously, your fingers twitching against the sheets.

her mouth parted, lips still swollen and glistening.

“goddamn,” she whispered, voice barely there.

she ran a hand over her face and licked her lips, like she was trying to wake herself up.

her eyes dropped again, slowly tracing every detail—how the lace hugged your curves, the way your skin looked in the dim light of your room. 

how absolutely perfect you looked beneath her.

she shook her head like she couldn’t believe it.

“so gorgeous, baby,” she murmured, leaning down again, her lips dragging over your neck. “so fuckin’ fine.“

paige kissed lower—her mouth pressed soft, lingering kisses across your chest, your shoulders, the valley of your breasts, a hand coming up to cup them and squeezing softly before sliding down to your waist once more. her fingers traced along the side of your hips, thumb slipping just under the lace of your panties, and she groaned against your skin, her breath hot.

“this what you wore under that dress?” she asked. 

she kissed you again—even lower this time, just above your stomach. and you nodded, cheeks pink, and she grinned against your skin, her teeth catching your hipbone gently.

“you wore this for him?”

you opened your mouth to explain, to say no, but paige looked up at you then, eyes locked with yours. desperate. possessive.

she leaned up again, her hand sliding up your side, over the curve of your ribs until she reached your bra strap. she toyed with it a second, then whispered—

“nah. you wore this for me.”

you couldn’t even argue.

“right, baby?” she murmured, her thumbs playing with the waistband of your panties. “tell me who you wore it for.”

you could barely breathe, let alone speak.

your chest rose and fell under her, every inch of your skin burning where she touched, where she looked. her body was so close, heat radiating off of her like fire, and god, her voice was doing something to you you didn’t have words for. her hand stayed right there on your hip, fingers slipping under the lace edge again, teasing you. her eyes stayed locked on yours, waiting, mouth parted. 

“you.” you swallowed, lips barely moving when you whispered, “i wore this for you, paige.”

paige smiles, her cheeks burning more than ever as she moves to bury her face into your neck, hiding the blush fanning over her skin. 

when she lifts her head up, her lips crashed into yours again, hungrier this time. her hand slid up your thigh, her body lowering to press more firmly against yours. 

you whimpered into her mouth, wrapping your legs loosely around her waist without thinking, pulling her in closer, needing more. she gasped at that, hips rolling slow against yours once, once, and her whole body stiffened like she couldn’t take it.

she kissed down your neck again, right against your skin. her hands a quick to pull that bra off of you, desperate to feel your tits in her hands. she squeezes them lightly, dragging her lips over the soft flesh, smiling at the feeling of your hard nipples under the pads of her thumbs. you whimper quietly as she gently wraps her lips around one of your nipples and sucks, licking them softly as her hand toys with the other. she switches when she felt like it, giving each nipple equal attention, kissing and marking your skin.

she kisses you down the valley of breasts again, giving each of your boobs a gentle squeeze, before making her way down to your stomach, where she meets the waistband of your lace panties again. paige does well to tease you, skipping the fabric and traveling lower. she kissed the inside of your thigh, slowly, savoring the way your body responded—how you tensed and softened at the same time. how your hand reached blindly for her shoulder. 

she kissed higher. then higher.

her breath hot. her lips soft and maddeningly slow.

her fingers spread along your thighs, thumbs brushing upward toward your hips. 

she wanted you to feel safe. wanted you to feel everything.

soon enough, paige finally pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind her. her eyes never moved away from your body, watching as you squeezed your thighs together, shyly looking at her, you eyes half-lidded. you laid there, bare, hair fanned out on the mattress, over the sheets of your bed, waiting for her…

paige’s knees nearly gives out. her cheeks burning as she stares, her hands absentmindedly reaching to put her hands on your thighs, gently nudging them open.

“spread your legs, mama,” she says, mouth parted, almost as if she was drooling. “lemme see you.”

“paige…” you whimper softly.

“swear, imma make feel you so good.”

there’s a soft shuffling of the sheets as paige urges your thighs apart with her big hands, settling herself onto the bed. with her head between your legs. mouth practically watering. big blue eyes locked onto that perfect pussy of yours. she smirks when she sees how wet you are. fuck, you drive her crazy. she slicks a finger between your folds and hums, leaning closer, nudging her nose against your clit. 

when her mouth finally met where you needed her most, your back arched. your and paige—god, she moaned when she tasted you. her tongue moved slow at first. learning you. she was taking her time. wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere. like she just wanted to worship you. you whimpered, your hand flying to her blonde hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as her mouth moved against you, licking deeper, firmer, then softer again, teasing.

“p-paige, hah--!”

paige groaned into you, your moans only feeding her ambitions, gripping your thighs tighter, and when you gasped and your hips bucked gently, she held you down with one strong arm, never letting up. and you could barely think. she was relentless. so tender. so focused. like she’d been dreaming about this exact moment. she has been, actually. she’s dreamt about having you in her bed. legs spread open. body writhing. screaming her name. leaking all over her sheets. 

“you taste so fuckin’ good,” she whispered against you, her mouth still working between your legs. 

your eyes fluttered shut, head falling back against the pillow, thighs shaking. and when paige covers your entire clit with her mouth and just sucks hard—you can’t help but moan her name out all over again. 

she fucks you slow, her mouth and tongue watering as she eats you out, absolutely obsessed with the way you roll your eyes back in pure ecstasy, your soft thighs closing in around your head, trapping her there. 

paige thinks she’s in heaven. fuck, she could die happy right now. her face buried and tongue buried deep into your pussy. sucking. slicking. slurping. you taste so fucking good. 

and you were already close--god, how long has it been? you could barely breathe. every sound slipping from your lips was soft. desperate. with your hips moving against her mouth without even realizing it. and paige groaned again. she loved that. every time you moaned, every twitch, every whimper—she needed more of it. she fucked you deeper, licked faster, her mouth dragging over your most sensitive spot in a way that made you cry out.

she wanted you to fall apart.

“you close, ma?” 

you only moaned in response. 

paige smiles. her eyes fluttered open for a second, catching your face twisted in pleasure, and she swore under her breath before closing them again, diving back in.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, baby,” she mumbled against your cunt. “just like that. lemme hear you.”

your legs tightened around her shoulders, your hands still tangled in her hair, and she didn’t stop—god, she didn’t even slow down. she licked you through every sound you gave her.

you were close. she could feel it. you could feel it.

and fuck—she was close, too. paige has never felt anything like this before. but, it’s so hot watching you come undone. her whines against your pussy turn into fervent moans and groans, absentmindedly grinding her hips into your bed as she continues to fuck you faster with her mouth. paige feels so fucking good. you taste so. fucking. good.

“f-fuck yes--(y/n)—“

and then you’re cumming right on her tongue.

but paige keeps her head buried between your thighs, her mouth relentless as she fucks you more through your orgasm. your hands flew to paige’s head without thinking—fingers tangling tight in her blonde hair, not sure if you wanted to push her away or pull her closer. you gasped, back arching off the bed as you let out a choked sound. your fingers tightened, tugging gently, but paige didn’t budge. she just groaned, moaning into your slick cunt, eyes half-lidded as she continued to eat you out. 

god, paige was practically drunk on you. as if this was more pleasure for her than it was for you.

“paige—fuck, paige—wait—” you gasped, trying to speak through the stimulation.

you moan her name again, already nearing your second orgasm. you can feel her strong, big hands clinging onto your thighs, keeping you open, pushing you down onto the bed in case you even think about trying to push her away. but she just slurps. and slurps. everything is just so sloppy. so lewd. she laps at your cunt, her hips needily grinding into the mattress at the mere thought of you cumming again. 

she held you through it, her mouth never leaving you, her arms never loosening, like she needed to feel every single second of you breaking apart in her hands.

she didn’t lift her head.

she didn’t even pretend to stop.

before you know it, you practically gush onto her face, crying her name out once again. 

and while you came on her tongue, her hips jolted forward on instinct, her boxers sticking damp against her skin, and then—

a low groan tore from her throat, muffled into your skin, her mouth still on you as she cums in her boxers, untouched. paige clung to your thighs, her fingers digging in slightly, her body rocking forward once, then twice.  she shakes slightly, resting her forehead against your lower stomach as she catches her breath. she could feel how wet and how hard she came. 

her face stayed pressed against your skin, breath shaky, heart pounding, teeth sinking into her lip as she tried to collect herself.

you were breathless. completely spent. your chest rising and falling fast. she didn’t say anything at first. with your body still buzzing, you blinked up at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling slowly as you tried to breathe. 

“hah--fuck, i…” paige pants quietly. 

“paige,” you breathed, “d-did you just…”

her whole body stiffened.

you watched as her back rose with a deep breath and then stuttered when she exhaled. she turned her face slowly, pressing it into your stomach to hide, her arms tightening around you in embarrassment.

her voice came out muffled, “y-yeah.”

you blinked, your mouth parting slightly in awe. 

and then—god, she groaned into your skin, clearly mortified, clearly red as hell even if you couldn’t even see her full face.

“fuck, don’t make it a thing,” she mumbled shyly into your belly. “i didn’t mean to… i wasn’t—”

she stopped for a second.

“you just… sounded so fuckin’ good. i couldn’t help it.”

your heart fluttered. 

then you smiled and reached down, your fingers gently threading through her hair, feeling the damp warmth of her cheek against your stomach.

“paige…” you whispered.

her cheeks were so red. flushed all the way up to her ears, lips parted, her breathing still shallow like her body hadn’t come down yet. strands of her hair clung to her forehead, lips swollen, and her lashes fluttered as she finally met your eyes.

“come here.”

paige obeys immediately. 

she kisses you along the way, dragging her lips across your skin. she just kissed the inside of your thigh, soft and slow. then again. then she pressed her lips higher, just above your hipbone, her hand brushing gently up your side.  her mouth trailed along your stomach in a line of soft kisses,

she took her time.

soon, her lips found your ribs, the underside of your breast, your nipple, the dip beneath your collarbone. and when she finally reached your mouth again, she hovered for a second, her nose brushing yours. 

your eyes opened slowly, just enough to see her looking down at you like you. 

not a word left your lips as she watched you smile softly. 

you just leaned up and kissed her, slow, and she melted into it immediately, sighing into your mouth like she’d been waiting all her life for it.

and immediately, your breath hitched.

because you could taste it. yourself. on her. 

the heat in your cheeks spread quickly. you felt it the second your tongue slipped against hers. 

paige groaned quietly into the kiss when she felt your body react, her hand slipping to the side of your neck, holding you there gently. like she couldn’t stand the space between you. she kissed you deeper. slower. and you kissed her back. you wrapped your arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer, your fingers sliding over the tight muscles in her back, feeling her breath stutter against your lips as you parted your mouth for her again.

her lips were so soft. warm. still a little swollen. and the taste of you on her tongue was intoxicating. you whimpered softly without meaning to, and she pulled back just an inch, barely enough to speak, her forehead resting against yours.

then, without warning, she just… blurted it out. 

“can i take you out?” 

you blinked up at her. once. twice. before your brows lifted in surprise, heart skipping hard in your chest.

“what?” you whispered, almost laughing, partly stunned, like maybe you’d misheard.

like maybe she didn’t really just say that with her body still pressed to yours, both of you naked in your bed.

but she nodded. serious. face still flushed. 

“like… on a real date,” she said. “like dinner. or… whatever you want.”

she swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes scanning all over your face for any sign of doubt.

“you’re seriously asking me that… right now?”

“well… i’ve been wantin’ to ask. i just…” she smiled a little, sheepish. “kinda figured maybe i should do it after i made you cum first.”

your jaw dropped. 

and all you could manage, through the haze of disbelief and the tiredness through your body, was--

“you… are so annoying.”

paige blinked.

then grinned. wide. mischievous.

“c’mon,” she laughed, burying her face into your neck, her body shaking as she clung to you and laughed. “don’t play me like that—i was tryna be romantic.”

“that was romantic?” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

“pretty sure,” she muttered, voice muffled against your skin. “i made you cum so hard you forgot how to say yes. that’s gotta count for something.”

you rolled your eyes, cheeks burning as you smacked her shoulder lightly.

“paige!”

“what?” she grinned, finally lifting her head, eyes shining, face flushed and soft with affection.

you rolled your eyes again, but your hand moved and stayed in her hair, your thumb idly brushing the edge of her ear. dazed at the feeling of your touch, paige leaned in again, pressing the gentlest kiss to your collarbone, then your shoulder, then the corner of your mouth.

“i meant it, though,” she said quietly. “about the date.”

“yeah, i know,” you say, smiling softly, noticing how nervous she’s gotten all of sudden. 

paige looked at you. really looked this time. it was dark in your room, but she could see your face clearly. her smile lingered, but it faltered slightly around the edges. and then her eyes dropped to your lips, then your collarbone, then back to your eyes again like she couldn’t settle.

“i really like you.”

she swallowed hard. like the words tasted too big in her mouth. like they’d been sitting there for years and this was the only way they’d come out. 

“i have for a long time,” she admitted. her voiced cracked the tiniest bit. she smiled again, but it was nervous. “i didn’t know how to say it before. or if i should. or if you’d wanna hear it. but… i do. i really… really like you.”

her thumb brushed your hip gently, her body still pressing against yours, scared you’d pull away.

you didn’t say anything at first.

you couldn’t. you just looked at the pink dusted across her cheeks, the way her lashes fluttere, the way her mouth twitched at the corners like she was trying to smile through the panic.

paige bueckers, who was usually so calm. so goofy. poised… looked terrified with you.

“paige,” you whispered, barely getting her name out.

her eyes moved up to meet yours, and for a second she looked like she regretted everything she just said. like she wanted to pull the words right out of the air and take them back.

you shook your head slowly, blinking back the sudden heat behind your eyes.

“why didn’t you ever tell me?”

she gave a weak, breathless laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

“shit, i don’t know,” she said, shaking her head softly, eyes dropping again. “i honestly didn’t think you’d even consider me. and i didn’t wanna mess up what we had, too, so...”

she paused before speaking again. 

“but when i kissed you that night, i… fuck, i couldn’t stop thinkin about you.”

immediately, you reached for her slowly, cradling her face in your hands, thumbs brushing over her hot cheeks.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” you admitted. 

paige’s lips curved up into a crooked smile. she let out a small huff through her nose, her forehead resting against yours. 

she couldn’t believe this was real.

then she pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, a hand moving to your waist, her thumb brushing gently over your skin. she couldn’t stop touching you even if she tried.

“so…” she mumbled, lips twitching up into another grin. “you’ll go on that date with me?”

you roll your eyes first, but you could see it on her face that she was trying to play it cool, trying not to seem too eager, too in her feelings. but she was. she wanted this. wanted you. and not just like this.

she wanted more.

“yeah,” you nodded. “i’ll go on that date with you.”

paige beamed, practically glowing, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“bet.”

you barely had time to breathe before she kissed you again. gentle. smiling against your mouth like she couldn’t help it. in truth, she really felt like her heart was overflowing and kissing you was the only way to keep it from spilling out everywhere. you kissed her back, laughing a little through your nose when she nosed at your cheek afterward, all soft and affectionate, like her whole body had relaxed for the first time in weeks.

you though about the party. how you left matt without even saying goodbye to him. paige pulled you out of the door before you could even look at him. she didn’t want you to look. but she spotted him back in the kitchen as she walked you out. gave him a glare as she pulled you through the party, a hand low on your waist, pulling you close to her body, making sure he saw.

and god, did it make her feel good. 

“you really are annoying,” you mumbled again, your fingers sliding through her hair at the nape of her neck.

“mhm,” she murmured, mouth moving against your jaw. “you already said that.”

her lips traced a lazy path down your jaw, then dipped to your neck, pressing gentle kisses and licks that made your skin shiver. her mouth found your collarbone next, sucking softly, stealing your focus a little more as she marked up your neck with light bruises. 

“i meant it,” you said, suddenly shaky. 

“i know, baby.”

finally, breath hitching in your throat, you whispered, “paige…”

but she only hummed in response, her lips continuing to explore your delicate skin. her lips pressed against your skin again.

you tried again, little more desperate now, “p-paige…”

but she just smiled against your skin, humming like she was saying i hear you, even if she had no plans to stop.

her hands slid up your sides, warm palms trailing, fingers dragging lightly along your ribs, and your whole body shivered. you felt her nose brush your neck, and her mouth found the spot just below your ear.

another kiss. slower. then another. and another.

you tried to speak again. tried to say something, anything—but your breath stuttered again the moment her mouth opened just a little against your neck, her tongue tasting the edge of your pulse, where your skin was sensitive.

“paige,” you exhaled, almost scolding, but it came out as a whisper.

“mm?” she hummed. 

her lips never leave your skin. your fingers curled gripping her shoulders. you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say anymore. your head tilted back without even thinking, inviting her in, chasing the feeling of her mouth. she kept kissing you. lazily. hungrily. like she had all the time in the world and none at all. you felt her tongue graze your neck, felt her hand slide up the back of your thigh again. 

you felt dazed. as if she were kissing the thoughts right out of you. as if she’d made up her mind that she was going to kiss every single inch of you until you couldn’t think straight.

and fuck, it was working.

“i wanna fuck you again,” she confessed quietly against your neck. 

“please,” you whispered, almost too quiet for her to hear. “don’t stop.”

you feel her smile against your skin. 

and just like that—she was yours. and you were hers.

for real this time. no more pretending.

just… you. and her.

finally.

masterlist | © bueckii.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Stan just wakes up one day and is able to see a weird little frosting axolotl follow him around

(it's The Axolotl (I have literally nothing else))

Hoho! You've activated my trap card, 'au that has tickled the back of my brain but doesn't have a plot and exists as nothing more than a vague concept!'

So Fords new bff is Bill, the demon pretending to be a nice guy, who scams Ford into building a doomsday device. I was thinking, what if, when Ford summoned Bill, it gave the Axolotl permission to also interfere. Just like Bill picked out one human to bring his dreams to life, so does the Axolotl.

Except, in true mirror fashion, Stan does not believe this new pink lizard is his friend. If, and thats a big if, this thing is even real, its obviously evil. Its talking about 'feelings' and 'making personal changes' and how he's 'very important' and a bunch of other nonsense. Its trying to get him to second guess himself and keeps laying out 'what if' scenarios that are traps! Traps to keep him from his family!

Aka, the Axolotl is trying to steer Stan towards a better life (and to reach out to Ford), gives Stan advice like how Bill gave Ford 'advice'. Stan stops for gas? The axolotl tells him if he goes inside and asks, they're desperate enough for staff he can get a job, save up, and get an apartment. If Stan calls the cops on the mob right now he can cut a deal and restart his life. If Stan gives the last of his pocket money to the woman struggling at the store, he'll catch the attention of the business owner who will offer him a job, etc. Then a lot of stuff about 'Stan has his own worth outside of being a twin,' and 'it wasn't fair of his dad to give him an unreasonable expectation like getting a million dollars' and 'love is not transactional, he shouldn't have to prove himself to earn it, it should be freely given' and 'Ford was angry, and you were both young. Try reaching out as an adult and while he might be angry still, if you keep at it and be earnest he'll forgive you'

Basically 'give up your quest for a million, settle down in one place to get your feet back under you, and do some deep thinking about your feelings and relationships.'

Evil.

He is not listening to this thing, its trying to get him to doubt himself, trying to mess with his head! Everyone knows Stan's worthless without Ford, that a million might be harder than he thought to get, that if you don't have a use your not worth anyone's time or care, and that Ford won't be happy to see him until Stan can make it up to him! These are cold hard facts of the universe that he is definitely not curled up in the backseat of his car thinking about while the axolotl sits on his head and tells him about how his artistic talents are his own and how creative he is and how it thinks he's charming.

This thing is evil, and he is NOT! Its friend! He wants this thing gone yesterday because if it keeps telling him how much it likes him there's no telling what he'll do (cry).

Hmm. Sudden thought. Just like Ford makes a deal with Bill, Stan makes a deal with the axolotl, except where Bill proposes his, Stan begs the axolotl for help. They've been with each other for a few years now, and Stan gets in way over his head, almost dies. Maybe its the trunk incident, maybe its him losing his kidney, whatever it is, Stan's loosing it, and if he drops he's gonna die. Desperately asks this little lizard for help, even if he knows its evil and out to get him specifically and also a demon trying to take his soul. Where Bill's deal is that he can take over when Fords asleep, the Axolotl can only do it if Stan's in danger.

Like if he gets branded in an secret basement while an inter dimensional portal is active.

Ford brands Stan, Stan goes down screaming, then gets up, calm expression on his face and eyes pitch black. pushes himself to his feet, goes over and shuts the portal off, then looks at Ford (frozen, freaking out), and tells him he knows he's under a lot of pressure and stress, and didn't mean to say all those hurtful words, and that Stan didn't either. How about we try that again :3

Well, Stan's eyes aren't yellow but that doesn't really make Ford feel better, as his brother is obviously possessed by something.

Funniest thing would be it the Axolotl dodges Ford's swings, knocks him out, then just sits on his body while Bill rages and screams about how unfair this is! Its cheating! Its not supposed to be here, it can't interfere!

Just fun times with Axolotl-Stan and Bill-Ford, the Axolotl's not leaving Stan's body while he's in danger, and oh no! This giant portal and the demon in Fords body is very dangerous :3 Ford better figure it out if he wants the Axolotl out of his brother :3 The Axolotl won't help him (as Bill is right in that it can't directly interfere with his schemes like that) but it'll sit there and let Ford treat the brand and talk about 'Stan's expectations to sail into the sunset were unrealistic and somewhat childish, but Ford not communicating his own feelings and expecting Stan to just understand his change of priorities without talking to him were also' and 'you were both children, it wasn't your job to stop your dad, and not doing so while emotionally charged isn't your fault' and 'Stan might have lived a hard life, but he chose not to tell you, while expecting his life to be great was unrealistic, there was nothing you could have done because Stan never reached out and was always on the move, his life isn't your responsibility'

When Ford eventually gets to talk to Stan again they both agree that the Axolotl is very evil.

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 31st. tom riddle — breeding kink, raw sex.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom has a dream about fucking you raw, and decides it’s time he ditches the self-restraint.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, needy tom riddle, fingering, slight begging, desperate sex, PIV, creampie, incoherent babbling/dirty talk, breeding kink, literally the most feralized and needy and pathetic tom i have ever written .

You wake up to the feeling of Tom at your back, sometime within the early hours of the morning. 

Not an unusual occurrence, per say, but you're vaguely aware of the fact that the desperate way he's gripping your waist and pressing against you isn't just par for the course—something's off—and you don't get to wonder or question what exactly it is because within a second he's pressing his lips to your neck, murmuring your name, and stealing your cognitive function before you even get the chance to wake. 

"What—" you manage to get out, just as his hand slides up the front of your shirt and his lips continue mouthing against your neck. 

"Hm?" He murmurs, as if he's doing nothing unusual, as if you aren't completely aware he's pressed up against you like an animal in heat.

"Are you," you're struggling to get the words out as his lips graze the spot on the nape of your neck that makes your breath catch. "Okay?" 

He stills for a moment at that, before he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat, as if the question is almost funny somehow. "Should I not be?"

"I just...mmf—" a whole body shudder goes through you as his hand reaches the underside of your breasts; palming, squeezing. "You seem—different." 

"Different," he echos against your neck with a smile. "In what way?"

"Uh, needier—oh," his hand slips from your chest to the front of your pyjama pants, grinding his erection against your ass. "What's—gotten into you—"

"You, of course," he husks, and the fact that he can be cocky while he's practically pinning you to his chest is the perfect bloody summary of him. "Who else?"

"Well—I mean—" the words leave your lips in a hissing moan as his hand, that beautiful, steady hand—slips under your waistband and wastes no time in finding your clit, long fingers swirling tight little circles against it. "What—ohhh—" 

"You do know that you're asking way too many questions," he whispers, teeth nipping at your ear lobe as he runs his index and middle fingers down your slit. "I'd rather you be moaning my name as opposed to doing a million cross-examinations on my behaviour."

Well, that certainly shuts you up, at least on the verbal side of things—because the gasp that leaves your lips is not entirely something you can control, considering the fact that you're suddenly very aware of just how badly he seems to need you right now.

"I think that was progress," he croons between open-mouthed kisses, absentmindedly making you shiver and jerk as his fingers resume rubbing and massaging your clit. "Good girl." 

You whimper faintly at that, and you wish you could hate the way you react to the praise on principle only—but that's kind of hard to do when it's him, and he's doing the praising in the first place. So instead, you just try to keep any kind of higher brain function intact, regardless of it being a losing battle at this point.

"I just need you," he practically groans, and it's the strangest thing to hear him say when he's usually just fine being all smug and self-composed. "I need to feel you, now."

It's the closest thing to him pleading that you think you've ever heard, and the guttural moan you let out as he slips one of those long slender fingers inside your embarrassingly slick cunt is the closest thing to feral as you're sure you've ever been. 

"Need," you whimper as your hips jerk, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it's a sound you've made and not some kind of vocal fry of his. "Need me, why?" 

He doesn't answer right away, not in words—just sucks your earlobe into his mouth in a way that makes you want to scream. "You're not usually this difficult." 

"M'tired." The argument is weak, at best, but you're not exactly in any kind of frame of mind to try and make sense of the situation. "And you're—intense—"

"Yes," he murmurs, that smug tone still needling your eternal irritation. "And if you must know, it really is because of you. I had a dream about you." He punctuates the sentence by slipping a second finger into your slick heat, and you barely manage to keep a whimpering moan inside that you just know he would love to hear. "Fuck. It was a beautiful dream." 

He bites at your ear again, and it occurs to you that the desperate edge to his voice might have something to do with just how good the dream of you felt—or how badly he'd clearly wanted it to be real. 

You suddenly need to hear every goddamn detail. 

"Felt you for once, without protection," he tells you, as if reading your mind, and you whimper at what you're pretty sure is a pretty profound confession. "Even better than I thought you'd feel—fuck—"

"You're not the only one who's thought about that," you manage to get out, and you're not even being coy about it—at this point you're simply trying to deal with the realization that Tom Riddle having a wet dream about you is apparently enough to turn you into a pathetic, drooling mess. "But you are the one who's always been insistent on using condoms."

Oh, the low growl he lets out at that is a dangerous sound—it's low and guttural and it makes you realize that there's a very real chance this is going to go somewhere you might have trouble walking away from. 

"Yes, well," he pauses, and you can practically feel the fire in his eyes. "I'm just realizing I might have been a bit of a fool."

"You, admitting you're a fool?" You somehow give a half-assed scoff at the idea as you try to hold onto your sanity. "I think hell just froze over."

He laughs at that—actually laughs, and it does strange things to your insides to have it directed at you. 

"Maybe I'm just in a very specific sort of mood." 

"Oh?" You manage to raise an eyebrow. "And what kind of mood is that?"

"The kind of mood," he says, in an almost growl that you're trying to interpret through the haze of trying not to moan, "where I throw all reason out the window. The kind of mood where I forget all self-restraint."

"That's a dangerous thing, coming from you," you choke out, because that is true, but you're only half-thinking through your words before you say them, half your brain stolen by the curling of his fingers inside you, massaging your slick walls. "You don't usually—"

"Never," he cuts you off, like he's fully aware of just how different this is and trying not to admit it. "Until you."

Well, you don't know what to say to that—because you know him, and you know he doesn't usually lose himself in things like this, not like he's apparently doing now. 

"Oh?" You gasp, as his thumb sweeps over your clit, making your eyes roll. "So I've made you reckless." 

His answer comes in the form of a low, grunting sound of agreement, his grip on your body shifting a bit as he pulls you back tighter to his chest, rutting his erection against your ass. 

"You've done more than that," he murmurs with a sigh right in your ear as his slick fingers slip out to draw wet little circles against your clit. "Fuck it. I need to feel you—please, let me fuck you right. No protection."

Oh sweet Mother of Merlin.

There were a lot of words in that sentence that you were fucking sure, just a minute ago, were entirely out of the question for him. Not a soul on god’s green earth could have prepared you for the feeling that utterance just invoked—and you can't help but let out a helpless, wanton groan in response—his fingers driving you directly to the very edge of climax—

"I need a word out of you," he grits, and you realize then that you're both at the mercy of something he can only half control as he ruts against you again, his fingers slowing as if he's edging you— "please." 

You wish you could give him something teasing, snarky, maybe even witty. Something to needle him for just how beside himself he is, something to call him out for the feralized broken thing he's seemingly been reduced to. 

But you can't, because your climax is right there, and he's moving his fingers too slow, denying you of it on purpose—

"Yes," you whimper, the word like an answer to a prayer you hadn't even known you were praying for, and you realize somewhere behind your consciousness that you're desperate and aching inside for so many reasons, all of them because of him. "Please, fuck. Please, do it—I need—to cum—"

And at those words—that plea—the need in them, there's no stopping the sound that tears itself out of his throat, and before you can even think he's jerking your pyjama pants off your thighs—

"Wanna feel it—" he hisses as he frees himself next, tugging you against him and lifting your thigh toward your head. "Need to feel you cum when I'm inside you."

Oh, and at this point you're begging that you'll survive this. 

You're at his mercy, as you've been before, but in a completely different way—one that seems to be fueled by whatever animalistic thing is driving him today, and you're left with no defense besides the knowledge that he's doing this because if he didn't, he may just lose his goddamn mind. 

And for as much trouble you generally get into by enjoying him being cocky and in control of the narrative, this—this is something you've never once experienced. Tom on the edge of falling completely apart in his need for you, desperation and need taking a front seat to his usual restraint and control.

He's between your thighs before you can blink, and then he's pushing in. "Oh, fuck."

It's a sensation that's completely different when there's no barrier between you, and you're pretty sure that if it wasn't for the fact that the animal in his chest has risen to the surface, taking you by the throat, you would have gasped out in a moan so loud it woke the entire fucking country—but somehow, someway, you manage to tame it. 

His face buries in the crook of your shoulder, and it's a sound of guttural relief as his breath goes shaky and unsteady right in your ear.

"Feels so good," he whispers as he sinks in—as his thick, throbbing dick disappears into your greedy cunt. "Too good."

'Too good' feels like the exact wrong thing to say right now, at least in your mind, because you're pretty sure you'll take the fact that this feels so good you're scared it might kill you to your grave. 

"Oh my god." You manage to get out the words through the haze, and you're barely even sure what you're saying, your head thrown back against his shoulder, his arm coming up to wrap around your throat. "Oh my god, Tom." 

He responds with a shaky curse of your name, and you’re absolutely certain somewhere in you is exploding, something in your gut is coiled so tight it's like holding in the biggest possible secret of the world that you're desperate to scream to someone—

"So wet. So tight. I'm never starving myself of this again." It's a confession that steals your breath, and you struggle to keep breathing, struggling with trying to keep your world from spinning away as he starts to make shallow, languid thrusts into you, free hand slipping down to your clit. "Let me feel it. Let me feel it all."

You keen. "Fuck! Please."

It's the only word you can manage in a half-hysterical moan, your hand grabbing onto the one he's wrapped around your throat as if he's saving you from certain destruction, as if he's the only lifeline you'll ever find—and maybe, you think that's okay, because you're so used by him in so many ways that right now you don't even want another.

"T-tom—" his fingers swirl your clit in perfect time with his thrusts and you're clenching so tight your entire body is almost stiff. "Tommmm—I'm fucking—"

His teeth bite down on your shoulder with such ferocity you'd think he wanted it to bleed, and you're not even sure it's intentional as his body tenses against yours, tugging you back like he's trying to crush you into his chest. 

"Yes. Yes," he hisses again, and it's broken. "Please give it to me."

'Please give it to me' are the best five words you've ever heard from his mouth, you think with the quarter of your brain that’s still functioning—and it's like you've been waiting for permission without realizing it, because you feel fireworks going off behind your eyes a moment later. 

"Oh fuckk! Yes, yes, oh!" 

You cry out, so loud you'd be nervous about someone hearing you if the pleasure wracking your body wasn't so powerful you're pretty sure you're going to feel it all the way into next week—and there's a sound like something coming undone against your skin as his teeth dig deeper into your shoulder, a sound that's like a low, guttural moan of your name before he shutters something in half-broken words you're not even sure he's meant to.

"Oh yes—god, you're tight—fuck—"

You can't answer him, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later it's all painfully forgotten with the way he lets out another moan against your shoulder—

"That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. Just like that."

It's the pet name that does something to your insides, twisting them up in a way you can't quite parse through the haze, but it's enough in the moment to make tears prick unbidden at the corner of your eyes as he jerks against you, his breaths coming in shaky, heavy pants against your skin as his own climax draw closer, and there's no way this wasn't something you both needed that neither knew how to ask for. 

"Tom," you manage to whimper, and it sounds like a prayer of your own creation. "Tom—"

It's like he needed to hear you moan his name like that in a way that's primal—because in that moment his hand moves from your neck to your hair, and he clenches his fist into it, pulling, and it's enough to make a shattered moan force its way out of your chest and up to your throat. 

"M'close. Mmm. So fucking close," he hisses against your skin. "M'gonna—fill this tight cunt."

And god, it should be alarming, because you've always been careful, careful, careful—because you've always known the risks, the consequences, but right now you're having a hard time remembering why you ever thought it was a terrible, terrible idea to let him do this. 

"You're—Tom—you—"

"I know,” he groans, and it's like a plea, as if you're saying something out loud that he doesn't want to admit he knows— "just take it. Let me—fucking breed you."

There's a moment where your chest seems to constrict violently at that, where you're almost sure you must have a heart condition because it feels like skipping a beat is the under-explanation of the century, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and god if it wasn't as profoundly hot as you know it shouldn't be. 

“Jesus—Tom—“ there're a lot of things you know you should be saying, things you'd planned to say—or not do, as the case may be—but the only thing that leaves your lips at this moment is, “please."

And he doesn't know if it's a plea or a prayer, but either way it’s all the same because there’s no stopping the sound that leaves his lips as your answer sinks into his brain, as the meaning sinks into his bones: the low, guttural, primal sound of a man losing pieces of himself in something that he doesn't care to stop. 

"Oh—" he chokes out. "Oh god—"

It's like it's taking him like he wants it to, stealing him up in a way that both makes him feel both more whole than he's ever been and like he's lost more of himself than he can possibly cope with at every other moment all at once, and you're pretty damn sure you'll be the only thing that survives it, in the end— 

And then, he explodes. "Fuck—"

It's a choked-off sound that tears violently into the room without his permission, one that claws its way out of his chest and up his throat in a way that feels simultaneously like falling into and being pushed off of a cliff straight into oblivion—

"Mmm yes. Yes. Take it—" he's twitching inside you, hips trembling as he pumps his release deep within your walls. "Fuck. Fuck yes." 

There's a million and one responses to everything he's done and said in the last few minutes that dance on the tip of your tongue, but you're not entirely sure you have the mental capacity to do more than manage a shaky whimper at this point, and all you're even remotely sure you can do is respond to his own moans and gasps with ones of your own. 

"Tom," you whimper as he finally slows. As you both work to catch your breath. "I wish you had dreams like that more often."

He just laughs, a breathless, unsteady thing.

"That's my fucking girl." He mutters. "All mine."

[buckleydiaz]

“I’m not gonna disappear, you know,” Eddie says, lowering his mug to meet Buck’s eyes.

“W-what?” Buck stammers, blinking away like he got caught doing something wrong.

“You keep staring,” Eddie says, carefully, “like I'm gonna vanish. Or go back to Texas without telling you or something. I'm not.”

It’s been hours since Buck met him at the airport, drove him home, made him tea. And Eddie’s felt the weight of his gaze the entire time. Buck hasn’t said much, which Eddie isn’t surprised by, honestly. He’s not really in the mood to talk himself. But there’s something quietly devastating about the way Buck is looking at him. Eddie’s not sure what to do with that.

“Sorry,” Buck says.

Eddie sighs. “Don't apologize, it’s not…I don't mind that you’re looking. Just—you know you can talk to me, right?“

“I know,” Buck says. He’s trying to sound casual but his voice comes out just a little unsteady. Enough for Eddie to catch it.

“It’s, uh, it’s not that,” Buck adds, after a beat.

“What?”

“I don't—I don't think you’re gonna vanish. It's just… you look different.”

“You mean this?” Eddie rubs at his chin self consciously.

Buck’s eyes flicker momentarily to Eddie’s face before his gaze drops again. He nods.

After Eddie got the call, he couldn’t help but blame himself. He should have been there. Maybe if he was, Bobby would still be here—with his team, with his family. Not for the first time, Eddie felt like he couldn’t bear the sight of his own reflection. He felt small, useless. He thought maybe it would get easier with time. It didn’t. And with each day, as the guilt grew, so did the stubble on his face—thicker, darker. An awful reminder of the time that passed since Bobby—

Eddie sets the mug down, afraid it’s gonna shatter in his grip.

“You don’t like it?” he asks, and the words taste like ash in his mouth.

“No it, uh, it looks good. You always look good. It’s just—god, it’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Eddie bumps Buck’s foot under the table, keeps it there. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s not stupid.”

“I’m…” Buck exhales, “I’m not sure if you’re real.”

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it.

Buck shrugs. “Told you it’s stupid.”

“No! No, um, I—what do you mean I’m not real?”

There’s a moment where Buck doesn’t say anything, just stares at his own hands on the table, fidgets with his fingers. Eddie waits. Doesn’t push.

Eventually Buck speaks.

“After the lightning strikes, after the uh—“ Buck clears his throat, “the coma. I had this thing I used to do every morning. A-a checklist. To make sure I wasn’t dreaming. That I was still me.” Buck’s eyes stay locked on his hands, and Eddie desperately wishes he’d look at him again. “Ever since he—“ Buck stops, swallows, sniffs. “I wake up and I pray for this to be a dream. An awful, terrible nightmare. I pray, Eddie. And it’s—“

Buck’s hands are shaking. Eddie reaches out, takes them in his own.

Buck finally looks up. His eyes are impossibly sad and impossibly blue, and Eddie is struck by how beautiful he is. It’s a weird thought to have at that moment, but it’s true nonetheless.

“Sorry, this is so embarrassing,” Buck says, a little wetly.

“Hey, it’s not embarrassing, okay? You’re dealing with it. We all are.”

“Look, I know you’re real. I know that. But also just—everything is so different, you know? Nothing makes sense anymore and you look different. And it’s like—like, how do I know I’m not dreaming?” Buck says. “Does that make sense?”

It doesn’t. But Eddie gets it anyway.

He wraps a hand around Buck’s wrist, lifts his hand up to his face.

“You feel that?”

Buck doesn’t say anything, just looks at him.

Eddie closes his eyes, presses his face into Buck’s hand a little more.

“I’m here, Buck.”

Buck’s hand starts moving on his face, careful fingers trace his cheeks, his jaw, his chin. Eddie’s breath catches when a thumb ghosts over his bottom lip.

“You’re here,” Buck says, voice barely a whisper.

Eddie nods.

“He’s really—“ Buck's voice cracks. “He's really gone.”

“I know,” Eddie says, because what else is there to say?

Eddie’s eyes sting. He lets go of Buck’s wrist and places his hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb gently grazing the base of his neck. He wishes he could press his lips to his temple, like he does with Christopher. He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls him in, presses their foreheads together.

They stay like that, breathing together, until their eyes are red and their cheeks are wet. Eventually Buck pulls away, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his cardigan.

“Thanks,” Buck says.

“For what?”

“I don’t know. For—for being here, I guess.”

Eddie wants to tell him that he’s always going to be here. But that’s not true. He's leaving in a few days. He’s always leaving.

“Hey, you have a razor here somewhere, right?” is what he says instead.

“Come on, you don’t have to do that,” Buck protests, and Eddie is pretty sure he catches a small hint of a smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. ”I think I do.”

[hearts4hughes]

That ex!rafe fic about reader calling him was so sad🥹🥹☹️ can we get a blurb where the reader calls him to hook up again because she misses him. Even though she leaves as always in the end, she’s soft during the hook up when he’s trying to be rough with her to not get too attached, like he’s so rough and pounding into her and then she’s giving him soft little kisses and caressing him.

warnings: emotionally complicated sex, rough sex w soft moments, unprotected sex, possessive!rafe, crying during sex, 18+

he doesn’t pick up the first time or the second. but the third time, when your name lights up his screen again at 12:47am., he answers like he’s been standing by the phone all night.

“where are you?” he murmurs into the phone. his voice is lazy. he runs a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. you don’t say it, but he already knows. he trudges towards the window, pulling the curtains back to see the porch light illuminating your silhouette. he sighs and stomps down the stairs like he’s on a borrowed time.

you don’t kiss when you come in. you don’t say anything when he shoves the door closed behind you and cages you against it, breathing hard through his nose like he might be angry. he isn’t, not really. just something worse.

your back hits the wood. he fists a hand in your hair like it’s a leash, tilts your head back and stares at your mouth like it’s both a promise and a curse. “you gonna leave right after again?” he asks, voice hoarse. “or you sticking around long enough to pretend you still care?”

you say nothing and he doesn’t wait. he tears off your clothes like a man starved. he fucks you like he wants to forget. like if he splits you open just right, he’ll finally stop dreaming about you. you’re still in the dress you wore to whatever thing you left early to come here, and he pulls your panties down to your knees and bends you over the back of the couch like he doesn’t even want to see your face.

he doesn’t kiss you and doesn’t talk. just grits his teeth and pounds into you like you’re a stranger he’s trying to ruin. and you let him. until, you glance over your shoulder. water builds at your waterline. you begin blinking through tears, desperately reaching back to thread your fingers through his.

“hey,” you whisper, like you’re waking him up. like none of this has to be so mean. even if your motives are. “rafe…”

he freezes because your voice is soft and your touch is softer. when you twist toward him, legs trembling from the pace he set, you look so fucking pretty like this—lips parted, mascara smudged, trying to kiss him when he doesn’t deserve it.

he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t understand you. “why’re you being like that?” he mutters, grabbing your hips harder. “don’t-don’t do that.”

but you’re already kissing his jaw, reaching up to cradle the back of his neck, eyes fluttering shut like you’re just happy to be close. “i missed you,” you murmur. his rhythm falters. he swears. the noise is low and guttural. he nearly pulls out like he’s punishing himself now.

“fuck, don’t say that,” he snaps. “you don’t mean it.”

“i do.” you pull him closer. lips brushing his cheek, his temple, the edge of his mouth like it’s something tender and holy and not wrecked. “just…for right now.”

he kisses you then. it’s sloppy, angry, hungery. he knows it’s borrowed time and he’s furious at how much he still wants you. your legs wrap around his waist as he picks you up, fucks into you deeper, harder, chasing the high and hating it. but you’re still soft with him. still tracing your fingertips over his shoulders. still kissing the corner of his mouth between broken gasps.

finally, he breaks. he doesn’t finish inside you until you’re both crying. the room is filled with quiet and breathless gasps. you’re against each other like it means something again.

you leave an hour later, like always. but this time, his shirt’s still clutched in your hand. when the door shuts, he doesn’t move. he just stares at the dent your body left in the couch and tries not to call you back.

again.

again.

again.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @bibissparkles @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove

[munsonsmixtapes]

Touch Me

virgin!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: you get your nipples pierced and your best friend, Eddie is the first one you want to show

cw: MDNI (18+) nipple play, thigh riding

part two part three

You hadn't told Eddie that you were going to do it. He knew that you had been wanting to get your nipples pierced, talked about it at length, in fact. you thought it would make you look hot and Eddie couldn't have agreed more. Not that he would have ever told you that. How attracted to you he was and how often he got himself off at the thought of you, piercings included.

So when you showed up on his doorstep with your piercings peeking through after having gotten them done a few weeks ago, he was trying to keep himself from getting hard. He was trying to think about literally anything else, but all that was happening in his mind was flashes of him with his mouth on your tits, toying with your piercings as your back arched underneath him.

Little did he know that you had been waiting for them to heal a bit because you were thinking the same thing. You were going to take a leap and ask him if he wanted to have his way with them. Ever since you had that dream the night before your appointment, you couldn't get the idea out of your head. And now you had to make it a reality before you drove yourself crazy.

"So you finally went and did it," Eddie pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Sure did," you nodded, trying to arch your back subtly as you sat down on his bed. "Do you...wanna see them?" He could clearly see them through your very thin, very white shirt, seeing that you hadn't even put on a bra.

"Fuck yes." his words came out like a whimper and you tried your best to not think about how hot it sounded. You pulled off your shirt with ease, almost as if you had shown your best friend your tits all the time, which you didn't. Eddie definitely would have remembered that.

You let the shirt fall to the floor and pat the spot next to you, inviting Eddie to sit there. He was quick to sit next to you, his gaze on your tits the whole time. He hadn't seen many pairs (at least, not in real life) but he had to admit that yours were the best. And seeing the piercing going straight through your very hard nipples was just the cherry on top.

"You can touch them if you want." Eddie just blinked at you, unsure if he had heard you right. "Go ahead." You pressed your palms into the mattress, leaning back, giving Eddie perfect opportunity to touch you if he wanted to.

His hand reached out to one of them and he cupped it, not entirely sure what to do. He hadn't touched a woman period, let alone like this. But he was glad it was right, knowing that you would help him and be nothing but sweet while you did it.

"Here," you took his hand away from your tit and fixed it before putting it back so that his thumb was pressed against your nipple and the rest of his fingers were resting along the side, curling against your back.

His thumb moved back and forth along the piercing and you shut your eyes, feeling pleasure course through you. An involuntary moan fell from your lips and Eddie continued, seeing that you were enjoying it.

"That feels good," you told him. "Keep going." Eddie followed instructions, pressing even more and you moaned again, sounding even better than you did in his dreams.

He honestly couldn't believe it was happening, that he was touching his best friend in that way, but he loved it. The way you were pliant to his every touch was doing something to him. He was wondering what else you would have let him do if he had asked.

"Oh my god," you moaned again and Eddie looked down at your other nipple, desperate to have his mouth on it. He want to know what the felt like in how mouth. What it tasted like. The sounds you would have made if he sucked on it.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth was on your other tit. He immediately took the piercing between his teeth and let his tongue fiddle with it. It was cold, but he had to admit that he loved the way it felt. His tongue moved back and forth across your nipple and your hands moved to his hair as he began to suck on it.

It was gentle at first and then he used a little more force, loving to hear your cries underneath him. You knew that he had never done anything like that before so you wondered how he had gotten so good at it. Did he just have experience that you didn't know about?

The truth was that Eddie had watched a lot of porn and read a lot of smutty books to get himself familiar with it all and he had gotten very knowledgable about the subject even though he was a virgin. He never wanted to tell you about it, though. Not because he thought you would have made fun of him, but more because he wanted to keep it a secret. Something he had all to himself.

"Fuck," you whined. "Oh my god, how do you know how to do that?"

"Don't worry about it. Just lie back and enjoy." He helped you lie back on the bed then went in again, licking and sucking as hard as he could without hurting you. He was moving as slow as possible, wanting to soak up every second he had to touch you like this since he knew this was only going to be a one time thing.

Just when you thought he was finishing up, he took the piercing between his teeth and giving it a little tug, causing you to moan even louder. Clearly you liked that more than he was expecting.

"Do that again." He did as you asked, pulling a little hard this time which caused you to tug on his hair. He pulled one more time then liked a stripe across your nipple to diffuse the sting.

He then moved onto the other nipple, wanting to give it the same attention and you could feel your vision getting cloudy. You tugged on Eddie's hair even more as an orgasm ripped through you, a loud scream falling from your lips.

He gave one last tug before pulling away, leaving you to come down from your orgasm, unsure what to do. You stared up at him, your eyes glazed over and he swore you were the most beautiful you had ever been, lying there topless, your tits shining with his spit.

Eddie sat on the edge of his bed and you threw on your shirt before crawling over to him, spreading his thighs before straddling one of them. He didn't know what you were doing, but he sure as hell wasn't going to question it. He was going to let you do whatever you wanted to him considering that he had wanted you for years.

You hooked your finger under his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, feeling like you could have looked into his with how pretty they were. Especially with the sun peeking through his window, giving them a golden tint.

Eddie looked up at you, his mouth slightly agape as he watched your every move, desperate to know what you were going to do next. He was literally on the edge of his seat and was eager to follow you in whatever you wanted to do.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked and all Eddie could do was nod enthusiastically since he had seemingly been rendered speechless.

Your grabbed hold of his hands and rested them on your waist while your arms wrapped around his neck. You then leaned in gingerly, wanting to take things slow since you knew he had never been kissed before. At least, not in the way that you were thinking. You had been each other's first kiss when you were thirteen, but that had just been a peck.

Your lips met his and he was quick to follow your lead, his lips moving with yours as his eyes shut tight. It was slow at first, but then you began to grind on his leg and his brain short circuited after that. The whole thing was becoming overstimulating for hi, but there was no way in hell that he was going to ask you to stop.

You continued to ride his thigh as you nipped at his bottom lip, a whimper coming from the back of his throat. You nipped again and then diffused the sting with your tongue before dipping it into his mouth, a full on moan falling from his lips as your tongue tangled with his.

As soon as felt his rock hard cock against your knee, you decided to put everything to a stop. You pulled away to see that his pupils were blown wide, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip and you tried to hold back a laugh at your lipstick that had smeared all over his mouth and chin.

"Because I know you're not ready for the next step," you replied, swiping your thumb along his chin to get rid of the lipstick, but it had only made it worse. Eddie wanted to argue, but he knew you were right. He could do everything else no problem, but there was something about the penetrative part that scared him. And he appreciated that you understood him.

"Believe me, when you are ready, I will be the first person to volunteer to be your first. If that's what you want."

"You're the only person I'd want it to be."

"We'll I'm honored."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?"

"I actually have to get to work, but I'll come over tonight and we can do more of this?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, already counting down the minutes. You pressed another kiss to his lips then climbed off of him before grabbing your purse, fleeing his room.

Eddie was quick to follow, watching to get in your car, trying to figure out what he was going to do in the few hours you were going to be gone, hoping that would be a regular thing between the two of you. Maybe if he played his cards right, it would be.

[cumironi]

“ THERAPIST 'S WET DREAM！”

you need a therapist, with all the sick things in your head and luckily for you, NANAMI KENTO comes to the rescue, except he wants nothing but to corrupt you.

warning. non sorcerer! nanami kento, fingering, hand job, corruption, suggestive.

wc. 3,4k

you sit at his home office, on the couch staring at the clock on the wall. you’ve been here for months now working with him trying to get over your erotophobia— your fear of sex, nanami has been patient with you, helping you, molding poor little naive you, into the perfect sex toy for him.

the first three months of your sessions with him you talked about your fears, he listen and offered advice. you swore it would only last a month just long enough for you to take his advice to heart and find a guy to get with so that your friends would stop teasing you, oh but nanami was so sweet, so nice, so trusting, so when he told you, ‘you’re not ready yet’ you believed him.

soon those advice and just talking sessions ended up with him showing you how to masturbate, how to actually get off to just your hands, how to actually get off to HIS voice. those sessions in his home office started becoming phone calls, where he told you to call him when ever you had the urge to touch yourself.

he would instruct you through it, ordering you to leave your camera on and show him your wet pretty pussy as you desperately tried to reach the edge. of course his camera was off, he couldn’t let you know or see that he was stoking his own cock on the other line, listening to you moan and watching his little plaything naively touch herself for him.

all of his training led up to this moment, you on the couch in a outfit he manipulated you into wearing. a cute little skimpy skirt, with a fitted black, backless shirt. your hair was done neatly, your makeup was perfect, and you smelt good. he couldn’t wait to ruin you today.

“is it okay if we start the next process, hmm?” he sits down next to you, this larger hands in his thighs before he slid one over onto yours. “i think you’re ready.” he moved his free hand onto his zipper and unzipped his pants

he takes his hand off your thigh and frees his thick cock. “wanna touch it?” he grabs your wrist and guides it to his cock.

oh, good lord!

your cheeks flush red as you feel his warm hand guiding yours towards his throbbing member. your fingers tremble slightly as they brush against his shaft, feeling the heat emanating from his skin. the sight of his erect cock— his thick, veiny, tip red in anger and precum leaking— makes your heart race, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like inside your pussy, your mouth. despite your nerves, you nod slowly, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

suddenly, you're overcome with curiosity, and despite your fear, you decide to go through with it. you wrap— barely, your small hand around his girth, feeling every vein and ridge under your fingertips. it’s much bigger than anything you've ever touched before, and you marvel at its size and warmth. you start to stroke him gently, your grip tightening as you become more comfortable with the sensation. you can hear his deep breathing, and it sends a thrill through your body.

blushing, you nod slowly, still unsure what’s happening, but curious nonetheless. your hand hesitates briefly before tentatively wrapping around his girthy length fully. it feels different than your own, warmer, firmer, more real. “i... i'm not sure,” you admit quietly, your fingers tracing the veins along his shaft.

he lets out a low groan as your hand wraps around his cock, his amber eyes flickering with lustful desire. “that's alright, take your time,” his voice is deep and commanding, filling the room with authority. he watches you intently, taking pleasure in the sight of your delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing manhood.

as you trace the veins along his shaft, he can't help but lean closer, his scent enveloping you. his large hand rests on top of yours, guiding your movements. he begins to thrust into your grasp, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. “just relax, and let me guide you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

your blush deepens as you continue to stroke his cock, your hand trembling slightly from both excitement and nervousness. you can feel his large hand on top of yours, guiding your movements with a firm yet gentle pressure. the way he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine.

“i-i don't want to do it wrong...” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and desire. you're torn between wanting to please him and your innate fear of being rejected. but there's also a part of you that craves this attention, that thrives on the power dynamics between you two.

despite your fears, you try to mimic his rhythm, stroking him faster and harder. the sound of his groans and the way his cock twitches in your grasp encourage you to keep going. he chuckles softly, a sound that vibrates through his chest and seems to resonate within you. “there's no such thing as doing it wrong,” he assures you, his voice dripping with seduction. he leans even closer, pressing his muscular body against yours, making it clear who's in charge.

he guides your hand to stroke him faster, his hips instinctively bucking into your palm. each twitch and throb of his cock is a sign of your growing proficiency, and he revels in the sensation. “keep going,” he orders, his tone laced with raw desire.

his free hand trails down to your thigh, squeezing firmly as he watches you, his gaze intense and possessive. he wants nothing more than to claim you completely, to mold you into the perfect submissive lover.

the sound of his deep chuckle sends another wave of heat coursing through your body, causing your heart to pound wildly in your chest. you can't deny the thrill you get from pleasing him, from seeing the effect you have on his powerful frame.

“okay...” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. as he continues to guide your hand, you pick up the pace, your strokes becoming more confident and eager. the thought of making him moan and writhe beneath your touch fills you with an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal.

feeling his hand on your thigh sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm slightly under his touch. the intensity of his gaze sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, fueling your desire to satisfy him fully.

his body tenses as your strokes grow more confident, his cock twitching eagerly in your hand. a low groan escapes him, his head falling back as he savors the sensation. “that's it,” he murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need.

he tightens his grip on your thigh, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your flushed cheekbone. “such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your forehead.

his words and actions fill you with a sense of satisfaction and pride, reinforcing the idea that you're doing well, that you're pleasing him. and it's this validation, this assurance that you're meeting his expectations, that pushes you further into exploring these new sensations.

your cheeks flame brighter at his praise, your heart pounding so loudly you’re certain he can hear it. the compliment combined with the kiss to your forehead sends a surge of warmth through your entire body.

encouraged by his words, you increase the speed and pressure of your strokes, determined to bring him even more pleasure. you can see the way his muscles tense and flex under his tailored suit, the way his cock pulses in your hand, signaling your success.

as he cups your cheek tenderly, you lean into his touch, craving more of his affectionate gestures. the contrast between his rough, dominating demeanor and his gentle caress is incredibly arousing, adding layers of complexity to your already heightened state of arousal.

his breath hitches in his throat as you continue to stroke him, your movements growing more confident and skilled. he can't help but let out a low groan of pleasure, his hips jerking involuntarily into your hand.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh as he pulls you even closer. the heat from his body seeps into yours, creating a deliciously intimate atmosphere.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes darkening with desire. he releases your cheek only to trail his hand down your neck, tracing over the rapid beat of your pulse before moving lower to rest on your heaving breast.

hearing his muttered curse sends a thrilling rush through your veins, your strokes faltering for just a moment before you regain your focus. the feeling of his hand on your skin, tracing over your neck and then settling on your breast, makes you gasp.

your nipples harden instantly beneath the fabric of your shirt, and you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. the sensation is overwhelming, the dual stimulation of his cock in your hand and his touch on your breasts driving you wild.

you lean into his touch, seeking more contact, more affirmation of your worthiness. your heart races, and you can't help but wonder how much longer you can hold out before succumbing to the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins.

he smirks at your gasp, finding immense pleasure in your reaction to his touch. his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple, applying just enough pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

his cock throbs in your hand, practically begging for release. with each stroke, you draw out sounds of pure delight from his lips, each moan and groan echoing in the small space between you. “keep going,” he commands, his voice heavy with lust.

he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his amber eyes burning with a fierce intensity. it's clear he intends to take full advantage of every second, every touch, every moan that you offer him.

your blush deepens, if possible, at the smirk on his face and the command in his voice. despite the heat pooling between your legs, despite the growing ache that threatens to consume you whole, you obey, continuing to stroke his cock with renewed vigor.

the sensation of his thumb circling your nipple sends waves of pleasure cascading through your body. you arch into his touch, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give.

with each stroke, each groan that slips past his lips, you find yourself sinking deeper into the role you've been cast in— the role of his personal pleasure slave. the thought is terrifying, yet undeniably exciting. it's a dangerous game you're playing, but right now, you wouldn’t trade places with anyone else in the world.

your strokes become more purposeful, more deliberate, as if every movement now carries the weight of his approval. you can't help but marvel at the power he holds over you, the ability to make you tremble with just a touch.

looking into his eyes, you see the raw hunger reflected back at you. it's intoxicating, exhilarating, and it fuels your desire to please him even more. you find yourself lost in the moment, focused solely on bringing him as much pleasure as possible.

nanami's eyes darken further as he watches you work, your strokes becoming more confident and skilled with each passing moment. he can tell you're fully invested in pleasing him, and the knowledge only serves to heighten his arousal.

a low, primal growl rumbles in his chest as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. his tongue delves deep, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam your body, squeezing and kneading your curves.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. he reaches the hollow of your throat and bites down, marking you as his. “mine,” he declares, his voice thick with possession.

he guides your hand faster, his hips bucking into your touch as he chases his impending climax. the sudden kiss leaves you breathless, your mind reeling from the intense passion behind it. his hands on your body feel like brands, marking you as his in a way that goes far beyond the physical act of biting down on your skin.

when he breaks away, the word “mine” echoes in your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. there's no doubt in your mind that he means it, that he views you as his personal property, his toy to use and abuse as he sees fit.

the realization both terrifies and excites you, pushing you further into the depths of submission. you want to be his, completely and utterly. you crave the feeling of belonging to someone so powerful, so commanding.

your hand moves faster in response to his guidance, your strokes becoming almost frantic as you try to push him over the edge. nanami lets out a guttural moan, his head thrown back as he gives himself over to the pleasure coursing through his veins. his cock twitches in your grasp, a sign that he's close to reaching his peak.

he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to pump him even harder, his pace relentless. he needs this, craves this intense satisfaction only you can provide.

his free hand finds its way to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. he pushes you against the desk, using his body weight to pin you in place. the position allows him better access to your body, his hands roaming freely over your curves.

he leans down, whispering hotly into your ear, “'m going to cum soon, and i want you to be there when i do.” your heart pounds wildly in your chest as he pins you against the desk, his large frame caging you in. the feeling of being trapped, of being completely at his mercy, sends a thrill of fear mixed with excitement through your veins.

his words, spoken with such authority and desire, make your stomach flutter. the idea of witnessing his climax, of being present for that moment of ultimate release, fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

you redouble your efforts, pumping his cock with all the strength and skill you possess. each stroke brings him closer to the brink, and you can tell by the way his body tenses, by the raggedness of his breathing, that he's teetering on the edge.

desperate to be the one to push him over, you quicken your pace, your hand flying over his length with a newfound urgency. nanami's control snaps as your hand works him relentlessly. with a hoarse cry, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.

his cock pulses violently in your grip, the first spurt of hot cum shooting forth as he starts to cum. wave after wave of release crashes over him, his body shaking with the force of it.

as he rides out his orgasm, he continues to grind against you, milking every last drop of seed from his spent member. finally, he stills, his chest heaving with exertion as he slowly comes back to himself. pulling back slightly, he looks at you with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, more possessive. “that was incredible,“ he murmurs, his voice husky from his cries of pleasure.

breathless and trembling, you remain pinned beneath him, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his climax. the sensation of his hot cum spurting onto your hand, mixing with the sweat and precum, is both shocking and strangely arousing.

as he pulls back, you catch a glimpse of the dark, almost feral look in his eyes, and it sends a shiver down your spine. this man, this powerful, dominant figure, has reduced you to a mere plaything, a vessel for his pleasure.

despite the terror that grips your heart, you can't deny the thrill of being so thoroughly used, so completely owned. in this moment, you belong to him, and nothing could ever change that.

swallowing hard, you manage to stammer out a reply, “y-yes, it was amazing. . . ” nanami smirks at your words, a satisfied glint in his eyes. he knows exactly what effect he has on you, how much you enjoy submitting to him, and it only fuels his desire to dominate you further.

slowly, he pulls away from you, standing up straight and allowing you some room to breathe. but he doesn't move too far, keeping you within his reach, ensuring you stay put.

he wipes his cum off your hand with a tissue, then discards it before turning his attention back to you. his gaze roams over your body, taking in the flushed cheeks, the heaving breasts, the glistening sex that's still throbbing with need.

without a word, he steps closer again, his fingers trailing down your stomach towards the soaked folds between your thighs. your breath hitches as his fingers graze your sensitive skin, the anticipation building inside you to a fever pitch. you know what's coming, what he intends to do to you, and the thought alone is enough to make your knees weak.

but even as your body trembles with need, a small part of you hesitates. you've already given him so much, allowed him to take complete control. is it wise to surrender yourself to him once again?

yet as his fingers inch closer to your aching core, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more. your resolve crumbles under his expert ministrations, and you know there's no turning back now. biting your lip, you meet his gaze, your eyes pleading and desperate, “please...”

nanami's smirk widens at your plea, a clear sign of his triumph. he knows just how to manipulate you, how to make you beg for his touch. his fingers slide easily through your wet folds, teasing at your entrance before delving deeper. he groans softly, appreciating the tight clench around his digits.

with a firm grip, he begins to fuck you with his fingers, setting a rhythm designed to drive you wild. he watches your face intently, taking note of each twitch and gasp, each expression of pure ecstasy.

his thumb circles your clit, applying just enough pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. it's relentless, unyielding, everything you've come to expect from him.

a strangled moan escapes your lips as he thrusts his fingers into you, stretching and filling you in ways that make stars burst behind your closed eyelids. the dual sensations of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers plunging into your dripping cunt are overwhelming, driving you to the edge of madness.

each movement of his hand sends jolts of pleasure rippling through your core, making your hips buck against his touch. you're lost in the haze of lust, your mind clouded by the need for release. “mr. n-nanami. . . ” you moan softly.

but even amidst the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you can't help but marvel at the intensity of his grip, the unrelenting pace of his movements. It's a dance of dominance and submission, and you're the willing participant, the puppet on his string.

nanami's eyes darken with lust as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. he can see the desperation etched on your features, the way your body writhes in search of relief.

increasing the tempo, he pistons his fingers in and out of your clenching heat, his thumb pressing harder against your swollen clit. he wants to break you, to reduce you to a quivering mess, and he's determined to achieve that goal.

leaning down, he captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominates yours. the taste of your arousal mingles with the sweetness of your lips, fueling his own hunger. breaking the kiss, he growls low in his throat, “come for me. now.” the command is explicit, leaving no room for disobedience.

the raw demand in his voice shatters whatever remaining restraint you have left. with a keening wail, you surrender to the onslaught of pleasure, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave.

your inner walls clamp down around his fingers, pulsating wildly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. the intensity is blinding, making it impossible to focus on anything but the searing bliss consuming you.

as the final tremors subside, you collapse back onto the desk, utterly spent and gasping for air. your limbs feel heavy, your mind foggy, as if you've been drained of all energy and willpower. through hooded eyes, you gaze up at nanami, a mixture of awe, gratitude, and fear swirling in their depths.

nanami watches with satisfaction as you come undone, your body shaking with the force of your climax. he continues to stroke your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're a boneless heap beneath him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. the salty-sweet taste of your essence explodes on his tongue, and he savors it like a fine wine.

tucking himself back into his pants, he straightens his tie and adjusts his jacket, looking every bit the composed professional once more. only the slight flush on his cheeks betrays the passion that had consumed him moments ago.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you did well today. i'm pleased with your progress.” you lay there, panting heavily as you try to process his words. a part of you feels a twisted sense of pride at his praise, knowing that you've managed to please him once again.

but another part of you recoils at the casual dismissal, the way he can so easily switch back to his role as your therapist. it's as if the intimate moments they shared were nothing more than a fleeting fantasy, a figment of your imagination.

“t-thank you, mr. nanami,” you finally managed to speak, gathering what remains of your strength, you sit up slowly, your movements stiff and awkward. you avoid his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny, the knowledge that he holds such power over you.

with trembling hands, you begin to straighten your clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. nanami observes your actions with a critical eye, noting the way you flinch slightly when he speaks, the hesitation in your movements as you attempt to compose yourself. it's a familiar sight, one he's witnessed countless times before with his other clients.

he reaches out, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. his touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the roughness of his earlier ministrations. “remember,” he says softly, “what happens here stays here. this is our little secret, understood?”

his thumb brushes over your lower lip, a silent reminder of the forbidden pleasures you've shared. the gesture is possessive, claiming you as his own without uttering a single word. releasing you from his grasp, he takes a step back, putting some distance between your bodies.

at his touch, you swallow hard, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, stirring a longing deep within you. his words echo in your ears, a chilling reminder of the boundaries you must not cross.

“yes, mr. nanami.” your voice barely rises above a whisper, a mere breath of sound that carries the weight of your submission.

you nod slowly, acknowledging his authority, the unspoken agreement between you both. but even as you assent, a part of you rebels, craving more of those illicit encounters, craving him.

shaking off the lingering effects of your orgasm, you stand up, still feeling weak in the knees. you glance towards the door, contemplating whether you should leave now or linger a little longer, savoring the aftermath of your encounter.

nanami's eyes follow your movements, drinking in the sight of you standing tall despite your obvious exhaustion. there's a predatory glint in his gaze, a hint of the hunger that simmers just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

he steps closer, closing the distance between you once more. his presence is imposing, commanding, and you can't help but lean into him, drawn to the heat radiating from his body.

“i think you could use a moment to collect yourself,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, “why don't you take a seat on the couch? We can discuss your... progress further.”

his tone is suggestive, implying that there's more to your 'progress' than just your therapy sessions. the implication hangs in the air, a tantalizing promise of future encounters and the pleasure they bring.

[pluto-on-mars]

“Its always been you”

I wrote this for a friend, but I decided to post so enjoy Rodrick Heffley fucking you in a bathroom folks. Also if anyone wants to commission anything HIT ME UP!

Rodrick Heffley x AFAB! reader (18+ Minors DNI)

Includes: Fingering (f! receiving), drunk sex, p in v

Word count: 2,567

The party was loud, the atmosphere thick with fun and desperation, which of the two you were was lost to you as you crept through the hallways, drunken bodies pressed against you and almost spilling what was left in your solo cup.

You were trying to find your friend, a common thing that seems to happen to you despite your attempts to get it to stop. But ever the lover boy, Rodrick always got swept up in the crowd once Heather Hills was spotted, leaving you in the shadow of her spotlight. You knew this was going to happen, and you didn’t even want to go to this stupid party!

Rodrick could be terribly convincing when he wanted to be, unfortunately, promises to stay with you this time spilling from his pretty lips, and you couldn’t do anything but say yes. It was stupid, you were stupid, having a crush on a boy who didn’t necessarily want nothing to do with you, but he certainly didn’t want you in that way.

Stepping into the kitchen, you found who you were looking for, and you downed the rest of your drink as a result. It was the same as always, Rodrick trying, and failing, to impress Heather, but it was still a sight you couldn’t bear to see.

“ ‘Scuse me.” You grumbled, trying to reach the liquor that resided behind the pair.

“ Oh sorr-heyyyyy whatsup?” Rodrick, clearly drunk, slurred out once he recognized it was you.

“ Same as always.” You couldn’t help but be a little snippy, already having talked about how you didn’t like how he just left your side at a party, especially one that he convinced you to go to.

“ Oh-Heather wait!” He scurried past you, flashing you a smile as he chased the “girl of his dreams”.

Arguably a little bit too pissed off at how he left you again, you poured yourself another drink after taking a shot. Maybe it was a bad decision, trying to put out the flames of your anger with alcohol, but your already tipsy brain didn’t have any care to give.

You left the kitchen, body instinctively going towards the vibrations of the bass, following the music to the living room where it was the loudest. You got lost in the sea of bodies, chugging your drink occasionally while your hips swayed as you let the music overtake you.

Eventually your cup ran dry, you frowned once you knocked your head back, and realized you were met with nothing. You were certainly feeling it though, and that fact compelled you to want to get another one. With the room spinning, and you definitely stumbling, you made your way back to the kitchen. Pouring yourself one more, you rested on the counter for a bit, cool tile pressing against your hot back feeling nice as you indulged, nursing your drink as a means to not feel out of place.

Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last long, some asshole tripping into you, spilling your drink down your shirt, and effectively ruining your night. Still drunk, you wandered to the bathroom that unfortunately had a line. Deciding to go upstairs to continue your search, you found Ben.

“ If you find Rodrick, tell him I’m leaving.” And that was all you hissed out before you slammed the bathroom door, not even caring to answer his questions.

Gripping the counter as you looked into the mirror, you glared back at yourself, bad decisions catching up to you as now all the emotions you were drowning out seemed to come to the surface. Roughly grabbing a wad of toilet paper, you started dabbing it against your shirt.

“ Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You chanted, getting more pissed as each word continued to leave your mouth.

Angry tears dotted your eyes, and that made you feel even worse.

“ I know I shouldn’t have gone to this fucking party oh my god.” You rambled, rubbing your shirt harshly as you started to realize it was going to stain.

Slam

“What the fuck!” The bathroom door swinging open was the last you expected as you yelled out.

“ What's wrong, why are you leaving?” His voice reached you before you realized it was him, and you hated how you couldn’t stop your heart fluttering at his presence.

“ Don’t you have something else to worry about?” You snarled out, alcohol making you much more confrontational than you would be.

“ What? No, why would I-” Rodrick stepped in more, closing the door behind him, and looking down at your soaked shirt.

“ Please I’m surprised you aren’t too busy with Heather right now.” Words spewed from your tongue, and you knew you were going to regret this later with the direction it’s going.

“ No, never, you know I care about you c’mon.” Normally these words coming from him would work, but you were just so over everything, you just couldn’t be bothered. You needed to shout, you needed to yell, you needed to express your pent up frustration, and Rodrick was sure as hell going to hear it.

“ Do you though?” Your question hung in the air, tone biting, and you continued before he got the chance to speak.

“ It’s always Heather with you, Heather this, Heather that, always Heather fucking Hills!” You exclaimed, shoving your hands in the air, wad of tissue dropping into a sad lump on the floor.

“ You care until she’s there, and suddenly you're nowhere to be seen, even though I’ve told you Rodrick.” You were close to him now, finger pressed to his chest as you glared at him, despite your wavering stance.

He fidgeted, looking down at your finger before sighing, clasping the hand pointed against him gently, he used his other hand to run a hand through his hair.

“ It was never Heather.” He muttered out, words slightly slurred as he looked down at your hand in his.

Your mind raced, waiting for the words that could come out of his mouth, trying to stop yourself from foolish hope at what that might entail.

“ I only ‘liked’ her for so long cus you were never into me.” He trailed off, eyes darting around the bathroom as you slowly processed his words.

“ Are you being forreal right now?” You stuttered dumbly, mind not being able to comprehend this wasn’t some stupid drunken delusion and that this was very much real.

A nod was all you needed before you made your next decision, fueled by liquid courage, you couldn't help but tease.

“ God Rodrick, you’re so stupid.” Was all you said before you tugged on the neckline of his shirt, his lips crashing into yours as you got the kiss you’ve longed for god knows how long.

His hands seemed to instinctively find your hips, and you hummed into the kiss, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth, you steadied yourself against him. His grip tightened, and you moved along with him as he placed you onto the bathroom counter.

He was between your legs now, and you hooked your legs around his waist. You gripped his shirt tighter as he bit your lip, pulling him into you as a means to deepen the kiss. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you obliged, parting your mouth to feel his tongue against yours.

Arms resting around his shoulders, and hands going to his surprisingly soft hair, you shuddered once you felt his once stationary hands trail up your thighs. He pulled away with uncharacteristic softness, and you could feel his breath fan across your lips as he looked into your eyes. Just as you were about to close the short distance, his head dipped into the crook of your neck, wet kisses left in his wake as your breath grew shaky.

Head spinning not just from the alcohol but also with how hot it was getting in the room. Feeling as though you were burning up under his touch, Rodrick lifted the hem of your shirt, and you helped him get the rest off.

“ Thank god, that thing was fucking soaked.” You sighed in relief, cold air feeling nice against your skin as you unclasped your bra.

“ Yeah I bet that's not the only thing.” You could feel the chuckle against your neck, and you laughed along despite how warm your face grew at how right he probably was.

His short nails managed to drag across your skin just right as you straightened up at the sensation, and you jolted at him pulling you closer to the edge of the counter so you could press against the bulge in his jeans.

His hands stilled as your hips bucked, a muffled groan coming from his throat as his head began to go lower to your chest. Rodrick’s presence was overwhelming, he was licking, sucking, and biting what he could get his mouth on, and occupied what he couldn’t with his surprisingly skilled hands.

Your mind was racing, your head was fuzzy, and you were growing more desperate by the second.

“ Rodrick I swear to god if you don’t get a move on I’m going to explode.” You practically begged, voice having a slight needy whine to it, and you figured you would kill him if he decided to tease you on it after the fact.

“ God calm down, hardly even done anything yet.” He teased, hands drifting down to your inner thigh.

“ That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” You groaned out, biting your lips in order to bite back the embarrassingly loud moan that would’ve left you as his hand grazed you through your underwear.

“ Jeez alright, alright.” Rodrick smirked down at you, maliciously complying as he pulled them to the side gathering your wetness with his fingers all before shoving them inside you.

“ God fuck- Rodrick!” You were grateful for the loud atmosphere of the party, shout lost in the rest of the noise.

You gripped his shoulders, legs trembling from the initial shock. Rodrick didn’t seem to want to give you a moment to breathe, setting a pace that could only be described as fast, and something made to make you loud. You couldn’t stay quiet even if you wanted to, moans spilling from your lips even though you tried to be mindful.

“ I was right by the way.” He teased, looking down at you while you stared back, face growing impossibly warmer at how he seemed to be entirely focused on you and your reactions.

“ Wha-huh?” Was all you could mewl out through the sensation of his fingers inside you.

“ You’re soaked.” He grinned wolfishly, making his pace harder, and you cried out as you clenched around him.

“ And you called me stupid, you can barely even speak right now.” His tone was downright sinful and his words only built up your continually arising arousal.

“ ‘S not fair, you’re not getting fucked right now-” you managed to get out between pants,” ‘S your fault!” You protested weakly, words falling from your lips before you could even process them.

“ My fault?” He scoffed, amused as he didn’t break his unrelenting rhythm.

“ Just like it's my fault for taking so long to realize you liked me?” He said, and you could pick up on the slight softness, like he was asking for confirmation, and you didn’t hesitate to give it to him.

Nodding profusely, you let the words you’ve always thought to say tumble from your mouth,” I’ve liked you for so-fuck-so so long!”

He hummed, smiling down at you as he picked up the pace,” Oh really? How long have you liked me, pretty?”

You could feel heat pool to your abdomen, and your legs tightened around his waist,” ‘M gonna cum fuck.”

“ No, answer first.” He said bluntly, however his fingers didn’t seem to slow.

“ Shit I don’t know.” You blurted, mind frazzled as you couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure.

“ Think for me baby you got it.” Rodrick cooed, his left hand tracing gentle circles into your thigh.

“ Okayyy- ever since-fuck- ever since the begining of this year.” You managed to whine out before your legs began to shake.

“ Wow this year? That’s a long time.” He smiled, at your words, fondness dripping from his tone.

You would’ve smiled back, but his left hand moved from your thigh to your clit, rubbing it much more intensely than where it once was.

“ Such a good girl, cum for me.” He purred knowing just how close you were.

Coming down and swallowing your moans with a kiss that turned frantic as you eagerly reciprocated; you felt your orgasm crash over you in one big wave, dissolving into pleasure as your grip around him tightened.

Pace slowing as he rode you through your orgasm, in your clarity you fumbled for his belt buckle, the metal cold in your grip as you tried to take it off. Not breaking the kiss, Rodrick’s hands came down to help you, his jeans falling to the ground as you both parted to gasp for air.

In one swift movement Rodrick’s hands guided your hips, sinking you down onto his dick. Your simultaneous moans filled the air as Rodrick seemed to still for a second, needing a moment to collect himself. The sudden moving of his hips caused any teasing to die on your tongue as your breath hitched.

“ Fuck you feel so good.” Rodrick babbled, various noises falling past his lips, failing to maintain his composure despite his demeanor earlier.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, too lost in the rhythmic thrusts that had you seeing stars. Rodrick didn’t seem to mind though, filling in for your lack of responses with words of his own.

“ Can’t believe it took me so long to realize you liked me back.” Both of his hands were on your hips now, dragging them down to match his thrusts.

You were lost in the pleasure at this point, already sensitive from your last orgasm, your senses were overwhelmed, and you couldn’t do anything but take what Rodrick was giving you.

“ Glad you finally did.” You cried out, already feeling the buildup for a second climax approaching.

“ Fuck.” You breathed out, Rodrick’s hips beginning to slam into you harder.

Arms going up to drape across his shoulders, you clung to him, needing to ground yourself with everything going on. His pace grew erratic, getting lost in you as he began to approach his rapidly building high. The same could be said for yourself, voice growing in volume as various curses flew from your lips.

Nails digging into his back, you gripped him tighter, you could hear your name slip past his lips as you moaned his. Hips coming to a slow stop, the sound of you both trying to catch your breath filled the room.

“ Still gonna leave?” Rodrick huffed, slipping back into his jeans as he looked at you.

“ Shirts still soaked.” You said simply, and you were absolutely going home after that, you were getting tired.

“ Wanna come back to my place with me?” You asked, hopping off the counter and looking for the wet pile that was your shirt.

“ Hell yeah.”

[sixosix]

STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed. 

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

[claudaze]

⌗ 𝐄𝐗!𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 ━━━

ㅤ→ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ━━━ +18. mdni ! i fear ex!haechan is too powerful — reader is down bad, i am down bad… pls don’t blame me blame haechan. wrote this thinking about how insufferably sexy haechan would be if he was your toxic ex who still knows every button to push … UGH someone take him away ( but also don’t )

ex!haechan who acts like the breakup didn’t touch him. he jokes like he always has, throws his arm over friends’ shoulders, and posts stories like his world isn’t quieter without you in it. he makes it look effortless — being fine — but behind closed doors, he lingers too long in your texts, rereads the last thing you ever said to him, replays your voice in old voicemails when the silence at night turns sharp. it eats at him, but he won’t say it. because if he admits he misses you, then he has to admit he ruined it.

ex!haechan who claims he’s moved on. he flirts like usual, leaves heart emojis under strangers’ posts, and goes out more than he ever used to. but every time he’s drunk, your name slips past his lips — quiet, bitter, yearning. he calls your contact by accident, hangs up before the first ring. he dreams about you, wakes up hard and frustrated, and stares at the ceiling wondering how the hell you’re doing just fine without him.

ex!haechan who acts unfazed when he sees you out. he’ll smile, even smirk, make eye contact like you’re just another face in the crowd. but then he watches you laugh with someone else — sees your hand brush another guy’s arm, sees him lean too close — and his chest burns. he swears he doesn’t care, but he suddenly needs another drink. he’s suddenly not smiling. he suddenly pushes his way through the room just to get closer.

ex!haechan who drags his attention back to you like a magnet, always. he doesn’t want to talk to anyone else. he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. and when your eyes meet, it’s like you both feel it — that current, that ache, that thing between you that never left. he saunters over like it’s nothing, leans in like he has a secret to tell, and murmurs, “having fun?” with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. his gaze flicks down, lingers on your lips, and when you look away—flustered — his smile turns sharp. “he’s not your type,” he adds. “you like guys who get under your skin.”

ex!haechan who keeps getting closer, invading your space like muscle memory. his hand grazes your lower back. his breath ghosts your ear. “still pretending like you don’t want me?” he murmurs, voice low. “i still remember how you sound, baby.” and it’s so unfair —the way he knows you, the way he’s using it. your pulse races. your thighs clench. and he’s already smirking. because he knows. he feels it in the way you look at him.

ex!haechan who corners you in a hallway, under the excuse of “talking.” the second the door shuts behind you, he cages you against the wall, eyes dark, jaw tight. “say it,” he demands. “say you haven’t thought about me.” you don’t. you can’t. and his lips crash into yours like punishment. it’s all teeth and tongue and desperation, and you hate how easy it is to fall back into him — how right it feels. he’s grabbing your hips like he owns them, grinding into you like he’s starved, muttering, “missed this. missed you.”

ex!haechan who drops to his knees without hesitation, yanks your underwear down, and presses hot kisses along your thighs, groaning when he sees how wet you already are. “fuck, baby,” he breathes. “still get soaked for me, huh?” he eats you out like a man possessed — messy, hungry, deliberate — like he’s trying to erase every trace of anyone else. he doesn’t stop until your legs shake, until you’re moaning his name like it never stopped meaning something.

ex!haechan who doesn’t even make it to a bed. he bends you over the bathroom sink, one hand gripping your waist, the other pushing into your mouth to muffle your cries as he thrusts in hard, deep, relentless. “this pussy,” he groans, “still fits me too fucking perfect.” he fucks you like he’s punishing you for leaving, like he’s apologizing without words, like he wants to remind your body of everything it’s been missing. every snap of his hips says what he’s too proud to confess.

ex!haechan who pulls you up by the throat to kiss you while he cums, still buried inside you, teeth clashing, breath ragged. “mine,” he growls, voice hoarse. “you’ll always be mine.” and when it’s over — when you’re both trembling and trying to catch your breath — he tugs you against his chest, lips brushing your temple like it means nothing. like it’s not killing him to let go again. and then he says it. too casually. “don’t read into it.” but neither of you moves.

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.7 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Oh the tension is sooooo thick in this one. classic Jk and Y/N banter. A SMALL LITTLE THING OF SMUT RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING. bothering yoongi (classic), lots of medical stuff in this one, nothing graffic, talking about cancer and diagnosis, mentions of surgery, neuro bros make an appearance (ew), bowling, jk is good at bowling, y/n is also good a bowling, competition ensues, more ji-eun with life advice (love her) JI-EUNS HUSBAND LETS GOOOOOO, Jungkook and Y/N get real competitive in this one. Jungkook does not know how he feels, y/n cannot keep it in her pants, just trust me this is a really funny chapter, NAMJOON AND MELANIE APPEARANCE (love them), tension, tension, tension ❥word-count: 13.2k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: Surprise!! I had a burst of creative energy and busted out this chapter in like 12 hours. Enjoy!! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“Don’t stop.” You stutter over your words, gripping down on the sheets next to you. Tugging at the fabric in reaction to the pleasure you were receiving. 

Fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. Tongue dancing over your clit from side to side. Causing your legs to close around the person below you in reaction to the hints of your orgasm bubbling up. You were hot and completely covered in sweat and desperate to chase that high. 

“Fuck, yes!” You moan. Your hand reached down to wrap into the mess of black hair between your legs. 

You grind your hips into their fingers and mouth, desperate for any touch they grant you. One of their free holding your hips down in response. Their lips detaching from your clit to look up at you finally, you can get a look. 

Only to be met with Jungkooks face looking back up at yours. Eyes sparkling with desire. 

“Baby let me take care of you.” Jungkook said, wiping his mouth.

Then suddenly your eyes shot open. Bolting upright in bed. The light from the sun fills the room and blinding you. You had shifted rather violently, stirring Melanie that was asleep next to you and Ash who was on the other side of you. 

You rub your eyes, your dreamy state still lingering at the front of your mind. You run your fingers through your hair. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breath is heavy. 

Great, now he’s infiltrated your dreams. 

Awesome.

You take a moment and look around Namjoon and Melanie’s room. Still trying to fully wake up now. It must have been early. Namjoon is nowhere in sight.

“Oh no, we did it again.” With a whisper, letting yourself fall back into the bed. Immediately regretting it since a small hangover headache was creeping up on you. 

“Shhh, still sleeping.” Ash moaned, turning over under the cover, stealing some away from Melanie who was barely waking up, mouth hanging open. 

“Shut up.” Melanie groaned, trying to steal the covers back. 

“We kicked Namjoon out again.” You rub your eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I know.” Melanie yawned, turning over to face you. “He’s used to it at this point.” 

“Hey at least it’s not like when you guys had your shitty old bed and we barely fit on it together.” Ash sat up in the bed. Her hair is a complete mess. 

Melanie and Namjoon used to have a queen and it would barely fit the three of you when you three would crash. At least one of you would easily fall out of the bed in the night, you all were restless sleepers so it was anyone’s guess who would end up falling out of the bed. One morning Melanie ended up falling and hitting her head pretty hard. Taking a very fun trip to the ER with her head split open. 

After that Namjoon decided they needed to get a bigger and better bed so that would not happen again. 

You giggle to yourself while rubbing the side of your head, “Yeah how nice of Namjoon to get this big bed just for us.” 

That gets some small laughs from Melanie and Ash. Right at that moment the door cracked open, Namjoons face peering into the room. Looking between the three of you. Melanie immediately sitting up in the bed. 

“Good morning.” Namjoon lightly stepped into the room with an amused smile. 

“Guys look how cute my husband is.” Melanie tilts her head to the side, reaching a hand for Namjoon to take her hand. 

“So weird hearing you say husband now.” Ash ran her hands through her hair, fingers trying to comb through tangles. 

“Imagine how I feel.” Namjoon smiles, coming over to the side Melanie is on. Taking her hand and kissing the back of it. 

“You hate it?” Melanie pouted. 

“Yeah, I hate it, that’s why I married you.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Leaning down giving Melanie a quick kiss. 

“Get a room.” You tease, throwing your hands over your eyes like a small child. 

“You’re in my room!” Namjoon voiced with some fake annoyance in his tone, “I was going to go get breakfast. So put in your orders now.”

“You know my order.” Melanie grinned, She hadn’t looked at either you or Ash since Namjoon entered the room. 

“What about thing 1 and thing 2 over there?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow to the both of you and Ash. 

“Eggs Benedict.” You raise a arm up, finger pointing to the sky. 

“French toast.” Ash yawns, she looked like she was seconds away from falling back asleep while sitting up. You laugh, poking her cheek. 

“I’m on it.” Namjoon kisses Melanie one more time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

“Guys,” Melanie hums, “I’m married.” 

“You're just now realizing that?” You smile, she turns around to look at the both of you. 

“Nah but it’s fun to say. I’m married.” She coos, laying back down next to you. Totally starstruck. It was sweet, you loved seeing her so happy. 

“I’m so tired.” Ash whines next to the both of you, still looking like she could pass out any second. 

“You should sleep, or get some coffee.” You rub her arm, encouraging her to do something. 

This immediately perked Melanie up from her spot, springing to her feet. “Oh we have a new machine! It’s great! Joonie’s parents got it for us.” 

She rounded around to the other side of the bed pulling Ash to her feet. You slowly followed them out of the room. Down to the kitchen. Yawns falling from you the entire way, you also needed some coffee this morning. Ash leaned her head on you, entering the kitchen as Melanie seemed to have all the energy in the world suddenly. 

“What woke you  up so suddenly this morning? It scared me awake.” Ash asked, the both of you taking seats at the kitchen table as you waited. 

The contents of the dream coming back to the front of your mind like a truck hitting a wall. “Oh… just a nightmare. Freaked me out I guess.” 

Melanie shuffled around for a moment while you watched her gather mugs and start the new coffee maker. “You and Jungkook got along well last night.” 

There he was again. 

“I guess.” You lay your head on the table. “Really only for you guys.” 

“Yeah but you made it through the day without a fight. Just mild annoyances. Seems like progress.” Melanie continued, you weren’t sure what she was getting at here. 

“Spit it out Mel.” 

Melanie pouts, she likes to dance around these kinds of things. “You seem friendlier since we left. Just last week you still wanted to kill him.” 

You think on it for a moment, “I don’t know, maybe we are growing up.” 

“Yeah okay.” She scoffs, because it was a ridiculous thought. “I think it’s great. I’ve always thought you two could be really good friends. You know, if you could get past your ego’s first.”

“Hey! Friend is a stretch. Let’s not jump too far ahead of ourselves.” 

“I thought for sure he was dead when he sat on you.” Ash mumbled next to you, still hardly awake. 

“He was close. I don’t know, maybe I just don’t have the energy for it anymore.” You shrug, referring to battling it out with Jungkook. Omitting some key information about your recent activities. 

“Well whatever it is, keep going. It’s working.” Melanie brings a cup and sets it in front of Ash first. “Means I don’t have to play parent for you two anymore.” 

Melanie, not aware what exactly what she was encouraging. 

You thought for a moment if you should tell them… but something about admitting it felt… embarrassing. You and Jungkook sleeping together wasn’t embarrassing as an idea but something felt weird about admitting it. Telling them mabe makes it real? Instead of it being something you can pretend didn’t happen. If they know then it becomes actualized. Which you weren’t sure if you were ready for the teasing or the questions that will come along with it. 

After too long Namjoon returned back with the food. You all sat and chatted for a while but you left once you finished. Your day continues uneventfully. You filed your dream away into a deep part of your mind. Honestly, you did seriously need to see someone with how much space Jungkook was taking up in your brain these days. It was exhausting and annoying, because before you could just pretend he didn’t really exist unless you absolutely had to be in his presence. 

Now, he was creeping into your mind randomly. Mostly because you have a stupid and horny mind but still. Even beyond that it was getting annoying, so when you went back to work on Monday you just went about your business and kept your mind as busy as possible. 

Today you were a scribe for Dr. Kim. Which meant you walked around and documented charts as he did consultations and follow ups with patients. You had been wanting to do this for some time but he wanted you to get comfortable first. You felt like you were fitting in well up here, all the other girls were great and Vic has been your friend forever so you were getting really comfortable. All the patients knew you pretty well now, so today was the day. 

Dr. Kim kept you on your toes, though. He moved quickly from room to room, and you felt like you were constantly catching up. He was thorough, meticulous, and demanded precision, which made this a challenging but rewarding role.

“Keeping up Y/N?” Dr. Kim looks back at you as he leads his band of interns and Yoongi, behind him. 

“Doing alright sir.” You nod, opening up your next chart. Luckily Ji-eun was up next, hers should be pretty straight forward. Dr. Kim ordered a new set of scans because he wanted an updated look at her progress before surgery in two weeks. 

You had run around most of the day but would go back and forth between talking to patients and viewing scans in an observation room, it had screens around the room so you could pull up scans from a patient's chart. Which you had taken the liberty of pulling up and having ready. Dr. kim walked between them and would ask questions. 

“Alright patient nine zero one six one three. Dr. Duboid, give us the run down.” Dr. Kim gestured to one of the interns who stepped out from the rest. Clearing his throat. 

Alright, patient nine-zero-one-six-one-three. Dr. Dubois, give us the rundown.” Dr. Kim commanded.

Dr. Dubois, stepping forward, cleared his throat. “Fifty-nine-year-old female with stage four hepatocellular carcinoma. She is currently being evaluated for potential downstaging to stage three following her upcoming surgical intervention to remove a tumor in the left leg, initially suspected to be metastatic but confirmed via biopsy to be an independent neoplasm.”

Dr. Kim cut in, pointing to another intern. “Very good. Dr. Ruiz, continue.”

Dr. Ruiz adjusted her glasses and spoke. “Chemotherapy was discontinued last week and will remain on hold until two weeks post-surgery. A follow-up consultation is scheduled to determine the reintroduction of systemic therapy based on post-operative recovery and further imaging.”

Yoongi, ever prepared, chimed in with a thoughtful nod. “A new set of contrast-enhanced CT scans were ordered over the weekend for both the leg and liver. As we can observe, the leg tumor has remained stable in size, indicating that surgical excision is a viable next step.”

Dr. Kim scanned the room. “What concerns should we keep in mind? Dr. Ito?”

Dr. Ito stepped forward, pointing at the monitor. “The tumor in the leg appears to be intricately involved with several neurovascular structures. Should we consult orthopedic and neurosurgery for intraoperative support?”

“Excellent observation.” Dr. Kim nodded. “Dr. White from orthopedic oncology will be assisting to ensure nerve preservation and potential reattachment.” He turned to you. “Y/N, make a note: I want to push the surgery back two more weeks to allow for optimal systemic clearance following her last chemotherapy infusion.”

You nod and take a note in her chart. “Got it.” You go ahead and switch the scans from the one of the leg to the one of the liver. Everyone stares at it for a moment before Dr. Kim comes over to the computer where you have the newest scans pulled up. 

“Let’s pull up her last scans… I need to make sure I’m seeing this right.” Dr. Kim’s voice changed in tone slightly. You go ahead and pull up her last scans from several weeks ago and put them side by side with the new ones. It was glaringly obvious what he was seeing now that they were side by side.

“Dr. Min, what are we seeing here?” Dr. Kim gestures for Yoongi to continue on. He leaned in close to the computer where the scans were pulled up and started fiercely making some notes. 

Yoongi leaned in, analyzing the comparative scans. “Between the previous and current scans, the primary hepatic lesion has demonstrated interval progression. Now what does this mean?” Yoongi looks to the Interns. Which meant the main tumor on her liver has grown, it was slight. You might not have even seen it if the images weren’t side by side but it definitely had.

One of the interns raised a hand. “Resistance to the prior chemotherapy regimen?”

“Possible and likely in this case.” Yoongi acknowledged. “Other thoughts?”

“It’s an aggressive cancer, as soon as the chemotherapy discontinued it started to grow. So the chemotherapy wasn’t preventing the primary hepatic lesion from growing anymore.” 

“Good, so how should we proceed?” Yoongi nodded. 

“This might be the more pressing issue. Should we consider postponing the surgery?” one of the interns asked hesitantly, glancing between the scans and Dr. Kim.

Dr. Kim shook his head firmly. “No,” he said with certainty. “We proceed with the surgery as planned. The primary focus remains on addressing the current issue, but we will continue to closely monitor the tumor's progression. We also need to have an in-depth discussion with the patient about potential treatment options and gather more imaging to determine if surgical resection is viable.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but inwardly, the situation weighed heavily on you. This wasn’t the news anyone wanted to hear.

“Order an MRI,” Dr. Kim continued, his voice steady but concerned. “I want detailed imaging from every possible angle. I need to have a complete picture so we can provide her with all available options moving forward.”

You kept your thoughts to yourself and figured you could ask later. Putting in the order for the MRI and you were moving on. After some more discussion you all were back on the floor and making your way from room to room again following up with more patients. Ending with Ji-eun.

Scanning the room, you see a gentlemen sitting next to her. Roughly about the same age. You can probably assume her husband. He was adorable and had a salt a pepper look to his hair. 

“Good morning Ji-eun!” Dr. Kim sang as he entered the room. You and the interns following close behind. “I hope you don’t mind. I have the kids with me today.” 

Ji-eun smiled beaming at everyone. You got to look next to her and see an older gentleman, probably around the same age who you can only assume is her husband with her. You hadn't gotten to met him yet. “Not at all. Any chance they get to learn the better.” 

Jin tapped his head against the side of his head, “I agree. We have a few things we need to go over. Starting with that leg of yours.” Jin holds his hand out to you for the tablet, you already had the scans of her leg pulled up and pass him the tablet. “We should have no issues going ahead with the surgery to remove the tumor in your leg. Has Dr. White come and spoke to you about what he’ll be assisting me with in surgery?” 

“Yes he came by earlier and gave us the details. Sounds complicated but I get the idea.” 

The gentleman next to her cleared his throat, “We did have some concerns about nerve damage that we didn’t get to ask about.”

“Well with any surgery there is risk. In this case though Dr. White didn’t see any reason you shouldn’t be able to still have full mobility of your leg following the operation. I agree with him as well.” Dr. Kim’s voice as ever light and enthusiastic as always. “I did push it back two more week though. I want to make sure that we don’t run into any complications following your last infusion.” 

“I won’t complain. Every time I have surgery this guy falls into a full blown panic.” She teases the man next to her. He has a adoring smile on his face but rolls his eyes. 

“Rightfully so I think.” He pipes back up. 

“I have a little more to share before I’ll get out of your hair. Yoongi present.” Dr. Kim steps off to the side, passing the tablet to Yoongi. 

Yoongi, switching to her liver scans. “We also learned from your most recent scans that the largest tumor on your liver has grown.” He shows her the sans so she can see. “It’s not significant and it won’t delay your surgery but once we conclude with your operation we should talk the possibility of changing medication or seeing about another operation to resect some of the tumor.” 

“I’m not getting better essentially.” Ji-euns face stayed the same but her tone suggested slight disappointment. 

“Not at all. It’s an aggressive cancer and we have seen growth before. We just need to take another approach. We are going to closely monitor it before your surgery to make sure it doesn’t grow anymore.” Yoongi assured, trying to put on a neutral but kind face.

“Your sweet to assure me but I have been fighting this a long time. I try no to get my hopes up.” Ji-eun stated. 

“What do we need to do?” Ji-eun's husband butted in. 

“We are just going to continue the pain management for now. It’s important we get the tumor out of your leg. We’ve also ordered for you to be taken down for another MRI today so that we can get a much more detailed scan of your liver so we can better see what’s going on.” Yoongi continues, passing the tablet back to you. 

“I will look at the new MRI scans and come up with a new plan. I know we were just starting something new and I know this is not the news we wanted but I’m far from giving up hope.” Dr. Kim interjected. You couldn’t help but notice Ji-eun was putting on a brave smile, bright like always. Except a small sadness behind the eyes. “The tumor growing could mean anything. It could be from the regime change or from the the discontinuation of treatment.” 

“I know. We’ve been through it a lot of times before.” She sighs and her eyes are darting from side to side like she is lost in thought. “Oh before I forget I have something for you two.” She points for her husband to grab her the scarves she had been working on. 

“Ji-eun you know I can’t accept bribes.” Dr. kim jokes and everyone laughs a little. 

“Oh please.” She waves him off as she hands the scarves made for both him, and looks like she busted out one for Yoongi pretty quickly since you saw her on Friday. “I made these because I wanted to gives my thanks to you two somehow.” 

Jin taking his multicolored one and immediately wrapping it around himself, “Oh it’s lovely! I’m wearing this everyday once it gets colder. Yoongi put yours on.” 

Yoongi was just feeling his in his hands. “Oh I’ll wear it home.” 

“Awe come on. we need to see if it looks nice.” You chime in with a grin. Yoongi was unamused. Reluctantly wrapping it around himself, throwing one of the sides over his shoulder. 

“Oh they’re perfect.” Ji-eun clapped her hands together.

“Alright. Well, we’ll get those new scans. I’ll be back to see you soon once we have the results.” Dr. Kim’s voice was calm but firm, his nod signaling the team to follow. The interns shuffled out and Yoongi trailed behind, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression unreadable as always. Ji-eun was the last patient on their rounds, and as the room emptied, you lingered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in the air. 

You adjusted the tablet under your arm, stepping closer to the bed. Ji-eun’s husband  sat in the chair beside her, his hands clasped tightly, his face a mix of concern and quiet strength. Ji-eun herself was propped up on the pillows, her usual spark dimmed just a fraction, though she still managed a small smile when your eyes met.

“Do you guys have any questions or anything? I know that was a lot of news all at once.” Your voice was soft, careful not to break the fragile calm in the room. You moved to the side of the bed looking to her husband, “I’m Y/N, by the way. I’ve been on Ji-eun’s case since she got here.” 

You extended your hand to him,and he took it with a firm grip. “Youngjin,” He said, his voice warm but tired. “Ji-eun hasn’t stopped talking about the wonderful girl who takes care of her. I’m assuming that’s you.” He gave your hand a solid shake before releasing it, his smile genuine but fleeting.

You chuckled, glancing at Ji-eun. “Bragging about me, huh?” 

Ji-eun’s laugh was light, though it carried a hint of weariness. “Ah, I can’t help it. You’re the most interesting one here.” She leaned back against the pillows, her eyes twinkling despite the heaviness of the conversation. “This is the one with the boy problems.” She added in a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear.

You groaned, playfully swatting her leg. “I don’t have boy problems, and that’s not something everyone needs to know.” 

Youngjin chuckled, his deep voice filling the room. “If it helps, she texts me every little piece of gossip she hears. She’s got dirt on everyone on this floor.”

“I sit around and walk up and down the halls all day—what else am I supposed to do?” Ji-eun protested, though her grin betrayed her. She leaned her head back, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the blanket. “Which reminds me… you haven’t mentioned your pain-in-the-butt friend recently.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” 

Ji-eun narrowed her eyes, considering your offer, then nodded. “You drive a hard bargain.” She sighed, sitting up straighter. She glanced at Youngjin, then back at you, her expression softening. “What’s there to say? One of my tumors is growing again. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Your smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet empathy. “It’s like Dr. Kim said… it could just be a fluke.”

“Or it could be getting worse.” Ji-eun sang softly, though the disappointment in her tone was unmistakable. 

“We don’t know yet.” You countered, mimicking her sing-song tone. “You’re getting the MRI this afternoon, and then we’ll know more. Dr. Kim didn’t seem worried, so I’m not worried.”

Ji-eun sighed, her fingers now fiddling with the edge of her hospital gown. “I guess. I’ve had that kid treating me for as long as I’ve been diagnosed—”

“So you know he’d be straight with you.” You reassured her, your voice steady. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Youngjin nodded, his gaze shifting between you and Ji-eun. “She’s good.” he said, his tone approving. 

Ji-eun let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I have an aggressive cancer. That’s not new. I think I’m just getting annoyed with hearing it’s staying the same. It’s been the same for years. I’m just living with it at this point. I just… hoped, maybe, we would have seen improvement by now.”

Your heart ached for her. You couldn’t fully understand, but you could feel the weight of her words. “Dr. Kim is going to look at the new scans.” You said gently. “He’s probably coming up with ten more plans in his head as we speak. He’s not giving up, he’s not even close. We have to get you back on your feet without that leg monster first. Then we’ll go from there. He’s ready to fight if you are.”

Ji-eun’s lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes remained distant. “I’ve got plenty of fight left, kid. Don’t you worry.” She reached out, patting your arm. “You’ve got the poor-dying-person sympathy face. Enough of that, I’m sick, but I’m not dying. Now… My turn!”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, no, no. I’ve got a few more questions.”

Ji-eun groaned, rolling her eyes. “You and I both know that stuff is so boring.”

“That stuff is what helps us treat you.” You countered, your tone light but firm.

Youngjin stood, stretching his legs. “Well, this is going to go on for a while. I’m going to go get us some food while you dole out your interrogation. Don’t go too hard on her.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Ji-eun’s forehead.

“I won’t.” You promised.

“Oh, I was talking to my wife.” He teased, his laughter echoing as he made his way out of the room. “Play nice.”

“Never,” Ji-eun shot back, her grin widening as she watched him go. She turned back to you, her expression softening. 

“Your husband is lovely.” You said, settling into the chair Youngjin had vacated.

“I know.” Ji-eun replied, her voice warm. She tilted her head, studying you. “Now, give me updates while you examine me or something.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I actually have other work I should be doing.”

“That’s why you should ‘examine’ me.” She said, her tone mischievous.

“Don’t you have your own kids you can bug about this?” You teased, knowing her sons were a constant source of both pride and exasperation for her.

“Their stuff isn’t nearly as fun as yours.” She said, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I’m sick and dying.”

“You just said you weren’t dying, remember?” You said firmly, though your voice was gentle.

Ji-eun let out an exaggerated cough, clutching her chest. “I’m practically withering away! Please it’s my dying wish.”

“Uh-huh, that’s a horrible last wish.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really have anything new for you. That… stupid guy who’s been bothering me has left me alone… mostly.”

“Mostly?” Ji-eun raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

“We had to be around each other for a friend thing, and I don’t know… he was being… nice? Civil? It was… odd.”

“Good odd?” Ji-eun pressed.

“More like strange. I’m so used to fighting all the time, it was… weird.”

Ji-eun leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “I feel like I’ve asked before. Is there any history there?”

“No,” You said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “No, we just exist in the same spaces.”

“Hmm,” Ji-eun hummed, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe he’s changed. Maybe something happened, and he’s turning over a new leaf.”

“Seems out of character. Maybe.” You muttered, though the thought lingered. That didn’t help your currently predicament where he was taking up a small little piece of your brain you couldn’t control. 

“Well, I’m going to need more updates on this. It’s getting juicy. Maybe he’s actually liked you this whole time, but you were sending the wrong signals.”

You shake your head with and exasperated scoff, “Considering he once told me I looked like a run-over raccoon, I doubt it.”

Ji-eun gasped. “Never let anyone talk to you like that. Especially some boy.”

“If I’m being totally fair, I told him he looked like a cat vomited on him… and that he smelled like it too.” A result of one of the worst fights the two of you ever had. You’ve both definitely pushed your insults much further but definitely not things you should say at work. 

Ji-eun let’s out a small laugh. “It must be like watching a train wreck when you two fight.”

“Something like that.” You exhaled, glancing at the clock. “I do have to get back to my other tasks, but is there anything else I can do? Anything else you want to know?” You hesitated, feeling like maybe you could offer something more, even if you weren’t sure what that was.

Ji-eun’s expression softened, her laughter fading into a quiet smile. “I’m alright, kid. I’m not devastated or going to spiral into a depressive episode. It’s just… maybe you don’t get it unless you have cancer, but I’ve learned to live with the disappointment that things can always get worse. A tumor can grow, another tumor can materialize. It’s frustrating, sure, because it means we have to try something new. I get to experience a whole new set of side effects. But I do it… I have to.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. You pulled the chair closer. “I guess I understand… well, as much as I can. You know, you’re in charge, though. We’ll do whatever you want… it’s your life.”

Ji-eun’s face shifted, her gaze dropping to her hands. “It’s not. It’s never been just me… it’s my husband and my kids too. I have so many things I have yet to see them do. Get married, have kids of their own, live fulfilling lives. They haven’t really gotten to fully live because they all sit and dote on me…” Her voice wavered, the frustration and sadness intertwining.

“Sounds like they don’t mind, the way you talk about them.” You said gently.

“They don’t… but I don’t want them to have too forever. My husband has come to see my side of it more and more, but my boys are still the more… what’s the best word for it… aggressive when it comes to fixing any new problems I accrue as a result of this stupid thing. Dr. Kim has been on the receiving end of their insistent questioning more than once.” She picked at her fingers, a self-soothing gesture you’d come to recognize.

“Will you tell them the tumor has grown?” You asked, your voice soft.

Ji-eun hesitated, then shook her head. “Mmm, maybe not this time. Dr. Min said it wasn’t substantial, right?”

“No.” You said quickly, turning the tablet back on to pull up her scans. “Here, this is your last scan and your current one. It’s minor, but it’s important to monitor. Like Dr. Kim said, he just doesn’t know yet why it happened. We’ll keep a close eye, though.” You pointed to the screen, showing her the small but noticeable growth.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the images. “Then no reason to worry them… unless it means the chemo isn’t working anymore.”

You shook your head, closing the tablet and resting it on your lap. “Let’s just get you past this surgery first. Then Dr. Kim will cross that bridge.”

Ji-eun’s smile returned, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Look who’s the hopeful one today. I’d almost think you care about me.”

You stood, laughing softly. “I care about everyone up here. I just like you a little more. I need to get back to work now.”

“Alright, fine.” Ji-eun called after you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I need to have you give my kids the news in the future. Make them feel like it’s not so serious.”

You paused, turning back to her. “I think we’d be on the same page. If it were my mom, I’d probably fight as hard as they do to find answers.”

Ji-eun’s smile softened, and for a moment, the room felt lighter. You made your way back to the nurses’ station, where Yoongi was seated, frantically typing into a chart. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he glanced up as you approached. He was still wearing the scarf.

“Do me a favor.” You said, rolling your chair closer to his.

“No.” Yoongi groaned, not looking up.

“Aww, come on.” You pouted, tapping his shoulder incessantly.

Yoongi sighed, finally turning to you. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t need any scans.”

“This isn’t about that!” You huffed. “This is serious.”

“Oh… what’s up?” He asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

“Will you round back around to Ji-eun’s room later? I think they still have some more questions but just need some time with the new updates.”

Yoongi nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sure, yeah. I can round back around in a few hours after her MRI. See if they have anything else they’d like to know.”

“Thank you.” You said, rolling back to your side of the desk.

Yoongi tapped his chin, studying you. “You’re getting pretty attached to her, huh?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “I mean, I really like her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean it seems like you’re getting pretty emotionally invested… in her case. You seem to take a little extra care in this situation. Do you know her or something?”

“Not at all.” You said, shaking your head. “She was the first person I helped when I got up here, so she confides in me often. She’s sweet and makes the day easier.

Yoongi’s expression softened, though his tone carried a note of caution. “Just be careful… getting attached up here… it’s an easy way to get hurt.”

“Spoken from experience?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yoongi’s smile was sad, his gaze distant. “You could say that. We have a hard enough job as it is. We watch patients beat impossible odds and lose to simple complications… it can be taxing when you get so close to them, and they lose.”

“I hear you.” You said quietly. “I’ll be careful.”

Yoongi nodded, his attention returning to the chart in front of him. You sat back in your chair, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t something you hadn’t heard before; Vic had warned you of the same thing when you first started working on this floor. Emotional attachment isn’t a bad thing when it comes to patient care, it’s required, but boundaries with your personal feelings is what is important. 

Maybe you were getting a bit attached to Ji-eun but you knew how to pull back so that you can do your job the best way you can. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“Alright let’s go home.” Jungkook with a wave of his hand dismissed everyone. Paralegals and other associates packing up their things to finally leave for the day. 

It’s now the end of the week and he figured he might as well dismiss everyone for the weekend, there wasn’t going to be any progress until Monday anyways. No reason to keep everyone around longer than necessary. 

The trial had taken a slight annoying turn. The defense had brought to light some evidence about his clients that was information that had chosen to omit from his teams knowledge or research. So it’s caused a bit of a standstill on their side of the case. Which means they had been spending the entire week coming up with a strategy to combat this. But They were in recess until next week due to this presentation of evidence so they had some time but they weren’t going to learn anything new over the weekend and they wouldn’t be able to converse with the clients until Monday. So calling it a night was best. 

Jungkook may be working through the weekend but there is no reason to drag everyone down with him. 

“Tough situation.” Jimin came up and gave a pat on Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, doesn’t begin to describe it. More like throws a wrench into our whole case.” Jungkook gathering some papers, filing them back together nicely so he can get them back into his bag. Ultimately to take them out at home and make them over again. 

“Need me to come over? We can talk it through, look over everything again?” Jimin offered with a sympathetic smile, “Or take you out for a drink and we can bitch and moan. Haven’t done that in a while. I bet we can rope Taehyung in.” 

Jungkook thought about it, he could use some sort of release of frustration but he probably needed to keep his head clear. He’d gotten back on his game but this week proved to throw a punch left and right. “As much as I would like it. I think I just need to go home and drown in my own self pity.” 

“Awe come on. Better to spiral with a friend or two.” Jimin bounced on his heals with anticipation. “Maybe not a drink maybe, how about we get some food? You haven’t eaten today right? Maybe bowling?” 

Jungkook could tell what Jimin was doing, clearing the noise. “You suck at bowling.” 

“And?” He shrugs. “Come on, we’ll get some laughs out of it. Taehyung’s even worse than me. It’ll be fun.” 

Jungkook smiled at the thought. Taehyung truly was terrible at bowling. “Alright, I can spend the evening making you both look like huge losers.” 

“There we go. That’s the spirit.” Jimin left the meeting room, assuredly to go gather his things 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“God, please. Just allow me one strike. You’ve granted Jungkook so many. Please allow me one.” Taehyung was speaking to the bowling ball in his hand. Jungkook and Jimin just watching him as he pleads to break his total score of 32. 

They are now well into their second game. Taehyung sorely lost the first one and is somehow losing even worse the second time around. How? It was unimaginable but highly entertaining for Jimin and Jungkook. After work Jungkook went home and changed into something far more casual. A white shirt and some wide leg dark jeans. Eventually meeting Jimin who, with little effort, did manage to get Taehyung to join them. Now some food and a few drinks later here they were. Much more relaxed than how he had started the evening. 

Jimin was really good at that, making the end of the day better than the start. Even if the start sucked. 

“Just bowl!” Jimin complained as Taehyung was continuing to sing praises to the bowling ball. 

With that Taehyung sends the purple ball down the alley, and with a quick curve he sinks it into the gutter. Dropping to his knees in dramatic defeat. “The universe hates me.” 

He gives a small pout looking in Jungkook’s direction. Jungkook shook his head, “I have shown you how to throw a ball countless times! I’m not helping you anymore! My talents are wasted on you.” 

“So you also hate me.” Taehyung drops his head, but Jimin walks over and pulls him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“My turn you big baby.” Jimin says, pushing Taehyung back to the table with Jungkook. Defeat written all over his face, taking a chair next to Jungkook. 

“You’ll get 'em next time tiger.” Jungkook shakes Taehyung’s shoulder with encouragement. 

“Perhaps.” Taehyung sighed, heavy and exaggerated. “Oh to have such effortless talent.” 

“What can I say? Some of us are just born awesome.” Jungkook leans back into his seat, arms behind his head all nonchalant. He’s had a beer or two so he was feeling pretty good. The bowling helped. 

“Wow, you could try to be humble.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. Sitting up in his seat, “Jimin said it was a tough week?” 

“Yeah this case took an unexpected turn so I got to spend the weekend fixing it… or something. Then other stuff, not an awesome week for me.” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, tousling it a bit from its position. It had grown out a little, it tickled the back of his neck. 

“Hmm, sucks. Need a mock trial with me and Namjoon again? … Maybe another kind of stress relief.” Taehyung’s tone pointed. Jungkook knew exactly what he was referring to. He spent the entire week sending not so subtle texts that Jungkook should reach out to you. Like that would ever happen, Jungkook didn’t even have your number.

 It wasn’t unusual of Taehyung to pry into Jungkook’s feelings or into his life. It was actually annoyingly consistent. He’d been this way forever, always with the best of intentions. He wanted Jungkook to be happy and not so stuck in work or school or whatever. Jungkook was sometimes so one track minded and Taehyung, with Jimin’s help occasionally, did a pretty good job of getting him to chill out. Didn’t mean he didn’t also try to meddle into Jungkook’s love life… which in this case was just his intimate life. 

So this was pretty typical of Taehyung.

“Not this again.” Jungkook groaned, taking a fry and eating it. “When will you let this go?” 

“Give me a few more weeks? Maybe never.” Taehyung smirked, “Come on. You guys have heat! Why deny it?” 

“Deny what?” Jimin coming back and sitting with the two of them. 

Jungkook looks between them, “Nothing.” 

“Jungkook’s a scaredy cat.” Taehyung quipped, “Denying himself simple pleasures.” 

Taehyung may have been hitting the nail on the head, as much and Jungkook wanted to deny it. Your encounter this last weekend proved that Taehyung was right, you were just a nice person. It’s not like Jungkook didn’t know it. You’ve known each other a long time, but having it in his face kicked up some old memories. Kicking up some old thoughts and he didn’t care to explore. Maybe he was in denial. 

“Oh look, it’s my turn.” Jungkook stood grabbing his ball to bowl. 

“You can’t hide from me!” Taehyung mockingly calls to him as he goes up to the lane. 

“Care to explain?” Jimin leans in Taehyung’s direction. Taehyung waving him off. 

“His business to share, not mine. Trust me it’s good though.” Taehyung stood from his seat, wanting to get another drink but also possibly find a new ball. In the hopes that possibly his sixth, no seventh choice in bowling will bring him victory. 

As he scourers the lanes for his option. He passes by a group who seems to be coming into the bowling alley. With a straggler following behind, bowling shoes in hand. Taehyung makes a passing glance at the group. Just a few girls, but it wasn’t any of them that caught his attention. It was the last one. 

“Ah, wait up.” You called after them, you were balancing your phone  and wallet and shoes in your hands. While the other girls trailed ahead. 

“Y/N?” Taehyung calls your name, making you spin on your heel. A confused look on your face, wondering who could possibly be calling your name.

Your expression softened at the sight of Taehyung. “Hey, what are you doing here?” You look at the other girls but figure you can track them down. Walking over to him to give him a hug. 

He reciprocated in kind, pausing for a moment.“Just with some friends. Who are you with?” 

“Oh,” You wave your hand in the direction they went. “girls from work. Some last second plans.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Well we had kind of a long and tough day and wanted to blow off some steam. I lost the vote so here we are.” You explain, you didn’t hate bowling, you just would have preferred other activities to be honest. 

“You don’t say.” Taehyung smiles, unbeknownst to you as to why. “Well hey. Do you happen to have any bowling expertise? I could use some help picking out a ball.” 

He points to the racks of the bowling balls, and you nod. “I do, as a matter of fact.” 

You follow Taehyung along for a minute, helping him pick out a proper bowling ball. Finding one for yourself as well. You weren’t lying when you said you knew a thing about bowling. Then going up the lanes to see where your coworkers ended up landing. Which was right next to Taehyung’s lane. Taehyung couldn’t believe the odds. You made some chit chat as you walked back. Not before you immediately spotted the black mop of hair. Followed by the visual of his tattooed arm. He was faced away from the two of you. 

Of course Tae wouldn’t tell you that Jungkook was here.

Before you can get a word in. “Look who I ran into.” Taehyung’s voice jumps an octave, with joy and mischief.

Jimin looks up to see you with sudden surprise on his face, Jungkook turns in his seat to see you. He blinked, looking between you and Taehyung. What had he summoned you or something? Tae was only gone for a minute. Jungkook was obviously thrown and your expression seemed to match that of yours, you weren’t prepared for this encounter either.  

“Hi Jimin.” You give him a polite wave, glancing at Jungkook. “Jungkook.” 

Jimin waves to you. Worried that he was going to witness another explosive exchange. Surprised when Jungkook just sort of acknowledges you with a head nod. 

“Y/N.” He responds. 

“Just our luck running into Y/N.” Taehyung hugged your shoulder then letting you go and going to put his ball in the lane.

“He didn’t tell me you were here.” You sigh. 

“Yeah, I have a feeling that was on purpose.” Jungkook followed Taehyung with his eyes, throwing daggers at him. 

“Y/N!” One of the girls from your groups calls out to you. You glance over to them. You all managed to be placed right next to Jungkook’s lane. So it looks like this will be interesting. 

These were coworkers you didn’t hang with often. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Earlier that evening. 

Will some tension and tiredness you pulled your scrubs off your body. Discarding them into a bin that was made for scrubs that had fluids on them. You hadn’t managed to keep yourself clean right until the end when your last ER patient had thrown up you on you.. 

You got pulled down to the ER today because of a mass casualty incident. They needed all hands on deck and so that meant that you got pulled down from oncology. It was a bus crash and luckily there were no casualties but a lot of injuries. It took most of the day to get through everyone and get them treated and sent where they needed to be. It had been sometime since you had been in the ER working so the pace threw you off but you caught up quickly. 

One of the other girls who worked down here, really the only one you knew was clocking out with you. Layla, She was changing with you, the two of you had been running side by side all day. Keeping each other held up in the chaos. 

“I want to go back upstairs.” You moan putting back on your regular clothes. Layla laughed under her breath nodding. 

“Lost your stamina from being in a slow paced environment.” She teased but she was right. You hadn’t been running around on alert every second for weeks now.

“I suppose so. I need to relax or something after all that. I’m all anxious and tense now.” You try to shake out your arms almost like you can shake the anxiety away. 

“How about we go get a drink or do something?” Layla offers, you two had hung out once or twice before but it’s been quite some time. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Right as she was suggesting it though some of the other girls in the locker room overheard the offer. You didn’t know their names. They ended up inviting themselves along for the night. It was an opportunity to get to know these girls even though you really only cared to hang out with Layla. You still wanted to be nice. 

You step to the side. 

“Hey so this lane only allows five players.” One of the girls, who you’d come to learn from, was named Kenna. 

“Oh well there are only four of us. What’s the problem?” You looked between them, an apologetic look plastered on Layla’s face. The other girl, Jea, cleared her throat. 

“I sort of invited some guys from Neuro to join us?” She winced, not seeming that apologetic about her choice. 

Oh god, you really hated all of the guys in Neuro. 

“You can join our lane Y/N.” Taehyung who was not so subtly listening into your conversation, interjected. 

You look back at him and shake your head. “Oh no I couldn’t impose.” 

“Oh come on.” Taehyung steps over to the little circle the four of you made, “Hi ladies. I’m Tae.” 

With his usual easy charm, he offered his hand, shaking around the group. The introductions were brief but polite, and it didn’t take long for your friends to pick up on the dynamics at play. The unspoken understanding that you and Taehyung were just friends was clear as day. Other observations, however, were quickly forming—particularly regarding Jimin and Jungkook, who were standing just a little too close, their attention shifting between you and the conversation.

“Seriously, it’s not a problem.” Taehyung continued, turning his attention back to you. “You could help us take down Jungkook.” 

At that, Jungkook scoffed from where he stood, arms crossed. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung barely acknowledged him, instead giving you his most dramatic, wide-eyed, brown puppy-dog stare. “And think about it, Y/N—we could sort of combine parties. A win-win situation.”

You hesitated, glancing at your friends. The idea wasn’t entirely awful, but—

“Oh, I don’t know…” You trailed off, shifting on your feet.

Your hesitation wasn’t just because of Jungkook. Not entirely, at least.

Jungkook, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “What, scared to lose?”

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “Not at all.” 

“I think it’s a great idea!” Kenna chimes in. 

With that it was settled. The girls set up their lane while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin wrapped up their current game. They were only a few frames away from finishing, which gave them just enough time to add your name to their board. The order was set: Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, then you.

And then, of course, the so-called guys from Neuro arrived.

Jackson and Will.

You actually knew both of them; surgical residents, unbearably arrogant, and exactly as obnoxious as you remembered. It was wild how the guy running Neuro was one of the kindest people you’d ever met, yet his residents were straight-up meatheads. Lucky for you, they seemed preoccupied, locked in some ridiculous display of charm with Kenna and Jea.

You had found yourself sitting with Jungkook. Luckily because of the long day you had and the lack of wine your mind wasn’t drifting like it was last week. The only distracting detail about him was that he smelled good. His lip ring which was on full display tonight was also noted. 

Not ideal but right now you would take it over having to make nice with things 1 and 2. You had also gotten yourself a drink and some food so you could pretend to be preoccupied. Except it was extremely quiet sitting here. You and Jungkook made no eye contact or said anything. Meanwhile, Jimin and Taehyung were deep in discussion, strategizing on how to beat Jungkook. Spoiler, it wasn’t going well.

“I gave you the right ball.” You pointed out to Taehyung, watching him scowl at his fingers like they had personally betrayed him.

“Yeah, and it turns out the ball wasn’t the problem.” Jungkook mumbled, which got a small laugh out of the both of you.

Jungkook stepped up to bowl next, a sleek black ball in hand. He took his time lining up the shot before sending it straight down the lane. Effortless. The ball smacked into the pins with an echoing crash, sending them flying in a perfect strike. Everyone clapped, minus Jimin, Taehyung, and yourself, all three of you trying to stay stubbornly unimpressed. He got the first strike of the two games. 

“Oh we are so cooked...” Jimin moaned next to you. 

“He literally doesn’t get tired.” Taehyung with slight annoyance lacing his voice. Almost like a petulant child.

“Awe come on boys. Just one strike. Doesn’t mean he’ll win.” You try to cheer them up but they both still have looks of defeat. 

“Oh my sweet naïve angel. Jungkook almost always wins.” Taehyung pats your arm, “Stop showing off!” 

“It goes like this every single time.” Jimin slumps down into his chair.

Looking down Jungkook was strolling back with a cocky nonchalance. He was good at bowling, you already knew that. That familiar almost knee jerk annoyance tickled the back of your mind. 

“Well you know what they say, you are either good at bowling or good at sex.” You kick your feet but you make Taehyung almost choke on his drink. Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks at your words. You had a cocky smile and he had his tongue in cheek look. “I guess we know which one you’re good at.” 

 Taehyung had to cover his face with how hard he was going to laugh. Jimin is unaware of the history and why he thinks it’s so funny. 

“Oh so the smack talk already begins. Why don’t we see you bowl?” Jungkook sank back down into his chair. Challenge filling the air. 

You may be talking out of your ass, you knew how to bowl but not like you were amazing. “Alright.” 

“Go Y/N!” Layla cheered, with few other whoops here and there. 

You approached the lane, selecting your ball with an air of nonchalance. You readjusted your wrist, lined up, and let the ball roll down the lane.

Pins scattered in a loud, violent clatter.

Strike.

Jimin and Taehyung both stood with some unanticipated excitement at your sudden show of bowling prowess. Which honestly may have been luck. You’ll take it, turning back to everyone and taking a confident bow. Jungkook had that all very familiar look in his eye. One you could so easily pull out of him in any argument. 

“Big deal. One strike.” He taunts, “Can you replicate it?” 

“Never thought I would encourage this but beat his ass Y/N.” Taehyung pointed at Jungkook, while taunting. 

You shrug, your ball coming back up the alley just in time. “Let’s find out.” 

Although it was now Taehyung's turn technically, you take your ball, doing the same thing you did the first time. No stress and not even thinking about it. You roll your shoulders back and send the ball down the lane just like the first time. Again, it was not elegant, but it was just enough. Split the lame, ten pin down. Strike two.

“Let’s go!” Jimin cheered from behind you, the girls cheering you as well.

With a cool smile you spun on your heel and sauntered back to your seat. High fiving Jimin as you sat down. Taking a sip of your drink made the strike feel so much better. You didn’t look at Jungkook but you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He was flipping his lip ring from side to side. It hadn’t gone past you that it was on display tonight.

Jungkook’s annoyance was clear though, and that put you on cloud nine.

It really was game on. The next few frames continued with tense silence between the two of you as you both went point for point, neither one of you really able to pull ahead of the other. It was actually uncanny because it had maybe been two or three years since you last had gone bowling. You didn’t complain, some cosmic machine was on your side today and you would take Jungkook down with it.

It was around frame five, Jungkook bowled a nine but picked up the spare. You at this point had gotten yourself so ramped up you were no longer sitting. Neither was Jungkook, everyone else was mingling but the two of you were so wrapped up in this game. This fierce competition had made the night even more fun for everyone else.

“Alright champ. You got this. You can easily bowl a nine or a strike and pull ahead of this guy.” Jimin had both of his hands on your shoulders, patting them like you were a wrestling champ.

You actually got to chat with Jimin tonight and he was a cool guy, very determined to see you beat Jungkook. “Thanks coach.”

As Jungkook was coming back to the table your were going up to the lane, bumping shoulders. Jungkook just rolled his eyes, not entertaining you. He didn’t want to show it but he was having a good time. He barely ever had competition with Taehyung or Jimin so to have someone he was actually competing with was… refreshing. To say the least.

“Awe Jungkook, so quiet. Slipping up on your game?” Taehyung taunted and Jungkook just brushed him off.

“Say’s the one with a measly 26 points right now.” Jungkook raised a brow to him.

“Hey, I’m fully invested in Y/N now. I’ve given up on me.” Taehyung says looked to you but then looking back at Jungkook with a mischievous grin. “Maybe something you should be doing too.”

“Stop it with that!” Jungkook shoves his shoulder. Another cheer roaring from Jimin and you in the lane. You bowled a strike this round. Which means Jungkook will need one next round to keep up. Both you and Jimin jumping up and down holding each other’s hands out of excitement.

You were on a roll and after today you seriously needed it. Beating Jungkook will be a welcome celebration after this week.

You step off to the side so Taehyung can come up and take his turn but caught in a small traffic stop with Jackson.

“Oh sorry.” You try to step around him but he stops you. He moves right in toe with you.

“You’re really good.” He compliments. A bit of a flirtatious tone layer his words. “You bowl often?”

You shake your head trying to take another step away. “Not really. It’s rare that I ever bowl to be honest.”

“So what do you do? I mean outside of the hospital and such?” Jackson continues, trying to maintain your attention. Which you were unsure how you managed to get caught in his cross hairs.

“Aren’t you here with Kenna or Jea or something?” You decide to redirect to his original night plans, which you look to Jea who seems to be pretty wrapped up in whatever Will is talking about so that answers that question.

“Not really.” He shrugs acting like it’s so casual, which maybe it was you didn’t know. “You work with Dr. Kim, right?”

“Uh yes but it’s temporary.” You scratch the side of your head. Somehow you had backed all the way up that you had made it back to your seat. Not to your avail, the guys were up doing things. Unfortunately the sanctuary that was your table is now being interrupted.

You try to see if Layla is unoccupied but she is about to bowl herself so she is completely distracted. Something in the way this guy is talking to you feels so college. He’s trying any tactic to keep your attention, so much so he is now sitting next to you.

“He’s a nice guy. I’ve meant to learn from him but he seems to favor that one guy. Yoongi is it?”

“Uh yeah Dr. Min. He’s very talented.” You try to look for any excuse, “I think it’s your turn to bowl.” You point back to their lane.

“I’ll just have Will bowl for me.” He waves it off.

“Listen… uhh Jackson.” You started but before you would say something else.

“Y/N.” You hear your name called from the lane. Looking over you see Jungkook holding his ball. Waving you over once you acknowledge him. You are confused for a second but you use the opening to escape. Thank god.

You saunter over, ready for whatever trash talk Jungkook probably has in store for you. “What? Admitting I’m a better bowler than you? I mean it’s clear as day.”

“First of all, never,” Jungkook scoffed, pointing his ball at you before holding it between his hands. “Second, you looked like you needed an out.”

You tilt your head, “What?”

“Bonehead number 5.” He subtly points back to Jackson who was still at the table. Kenna seemed to find her way to him again now. He looked a little less interested in talking to her as she was talking to him.

“Oh…” You paused for a moment, he noticed that? “Uhh yeah thanks. I was a little trapped I guess.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “No worries. Now, watch closely. You can witness my incredible bowling skills up close.”

“I’m alright. I've been watching your shitty technique all night.”

“Shitty?” Jungkook's eyes widened at the remark. “My technique is anything but shitty.”

“Oh come on, it's barely practical. You make it look all fancy and sweep your leg all far out behind you.” You mimic the motion, which is exactly as you said it. “You look stupid.”

“Oh really? Then what is this?” Jungkook mimicking your oh so nonchalant throws. You didn’t really have a lot of flair to it. Just a simple easy swing. “At least mine looks interesting.”

“And ridiculous. Simple is always better.” You shrug.

The truth was both ways were working. Your scores reflected it. Neither of you was doing better, you were tied. You both were doing something right. Which continued to be reflected when Jungkook bowled another 9. Good, could be worse. Some playful boo’s came from Jimin and Taehyung.

“Awe, only a nine? Must be tough having to follow up my strike.” You shake your head like you were disappointed or something.

“I see after last week we are dropping all the niceties .” Jungkook commented, testing the water.

“Hmm, I only have so much kindness I can expend for you at one time.” You mused, watching him line up for his spare attempt.

Jungkook didn’t say anything right away, just lined up his shot and sent the ball rolling down the lane. You both watched as it curved slightly before knocking down the last pin with a satisfying clatter. A spare. Not bad.

He was still keeping up. “Games still afoot. I’ll need to keep working harder to stay ahead.”

“Barely ahead.” He holds up a finger to confirm his point.

“Please you just don’t want to admit that I have been ahead this whole time. You’re just playing a sad game of catch up.” Thus the trash talking continues. 

“I’m just biding my time for when you slip up.” “Just move so I can maintain my lead.” You brush past him, Jungkook decides he’s going to stay right here as well. Having a feeling his proximity will maybe just make you nervous enough. 

You get a good grip on your ball, but you can tell Jungkook is hovering. Standing just off to the side next to you, like you did him. Probably trying to see if it will rattle your game. Nice try demon spawn.

“Don’t mess up.” He said it right as you were about to throw the ball but you stopped yourself, glaring at him before you totally botched that throw.

“Fuck off.” You lightly shove the ball into his stomach. Jungkook in turn pretends to be injured holding his stomach all dramatically.

You ignore him, repositioning yourself in front of the lane. Just as you go to throw you catch a quick glimpse in the corner of your eye, he was observing you very intently. That one moment of hesitation affected the ball just enough. Having it tilt slightly to the left when it reached the pins. Only dropping 6 pins.

Jungkook took two paces, standing just behind you.

“You missed.”

“I know.” You look over your shoulder at him, you were fuming.

“You hesitated.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Everything is fair game on this court.” Jungkook raises his arms up in surrender. With his arms up you take the full opportunity to push him back away. It was playful, and almost made you want to crawl out of your skin.

Jungkook laughs at the action and backs down. Going to sit back at the table.

The game continued, this time there was more civil banter. Which made Taehyung all the more annoying and in Jungkook’s ear and texts the rest of the night saying things like. God get married already. Do we need to leave you two alone? Get a room. Which Jungkook promptly ignored every single one. Not letting Taehyung continue to encourage this fantasy that he’s concocted.

Jungkook was still having that same feeling in the pit of his stomach. You were enjoying each other’s company for the first time in forever that wasn’t upheld by extreme intoxication. It was just hanging out, like any other set of friends.

So weird.

You had all come to the final frame. Jimin and Taehyung basically just gutter bawled their last attempts because they really did not care by this point. Layla and Kenna were still here, but Jackson bailed at some point. Jea and Will left together as well.

“You know, for this being my first impression of you. You’re literally so cool.” Kenna stands next to you as you were just waiting for your turn.

“Thank you.” You nodded, “Although it is just bowling.”

“I can’t bowl for shit, and you got your friend all up in a twist about it.” She shrugs, then points to Jungkook. Layla also standing here leans into you. “There anything going on there?” Her curiosity peaked, did you two just give off a vibe or something?

“God no.” You shake your head. “Just known each other for a long time.”

“He’s cute. It's a shame to let that all go to waste.” She bumps you as if to say you should be making a move.

You brush them off. “Please, he's the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know. People who find each other annoying to spend the amount of energy you two do getting each other all riled up.” Kenna quipped.

Oh how you wish Melanie and Ash were here. They would be trash talking Jungkook with you, not calling him cute or whatever. 

Jungkook, for his final frame, had already thrown a strike. Then he followed up with a second one. They were quick. You get a third attempt with two strikes, but he only bowled a nine with that final throw. Then you stepped up, Taehyung and Jimin waiting in major anticipation.

“Finish him!” Jimin said in a gravely tone.

“You just need one strike and you have him.” Taehyung was basically bouncing out of his seat as you picked up your ball. Jungkook was already in the process of pulling off his bowling shoes, you were unsure if he was doing it because he was so confident he would win or he already has conceded.

Either way, you wanted to crush him.

You step right on up, rolling your shoulders. Then letting the ball glide from your hand down the alleyway. You knew the moment you let go though, it veered just slightly. Just enough. Then bam, strike.

“And that’s game.” You spin around, arms outstretched.

“You still have one more attempt, Make it hurt.” Jimin encouraged you.

You glanced down to the bowling balls that were left over. Deciding to finish it off using Jungkook’s. The black ball was way to heavy for you for sue but what a fitting end.

“I think I’ll finish it off with yours.” Holding the ball up in a taunting manner. As best you could because again, heavy.

Jungkook just watched in solemn defeat, as you barely threw his ball down the alley. Only hitting a few pins, but solidifying your win. Which got big cheers from Jimin and Taehyung and high fives all around. Jungkook’s winning streak has finally been broken by you. It had to sting and you hoped it did.

“Alright let’s get out of here.”

Pretty quickly you all cleared out. You were flying really fucking high now. What a way to end your week.

You said goodbye to Kenna and Layla who came together. You were fine heading home on your own and it was hardly late. But as you turned toward the door, you noticed that Jimin, Taehyung, and—surprisingly—Jungkook were still lingering behind.

Jimin slung an arm over your shoulder, voice laced with amusement. “Okay, so you officially have a standing invite now. As long as you keep beating him.” He jerked his thumb toward Jungkook, who was still a few steps behind, hands still deep in his pockets.

“Oh, I’ll use any excuse to make Jungkook look like a loser.” You teased, practically skipping with excitement.

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a loser.”

“Debatable.”

“Well,” Taehyung cut in, draping himself lazily over Jungkook’s shoulder, “I say, as a penalty for breaking his winning streak, Jungkook has to make sure our reigning champion gets home safe.”

Jungkook groaned loudly as Taehyung clapped him on the back, half-shoving him in your direction. “Come on, we never said there was a penalty.”

You smirked and kicked him lightly in the ankle, making him stumble slightly. “What a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser.”

“Are too.”

“This is going to go on forever.” Jimin laughed, already backing away with Taehyung. “Have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jungkook huffed. “If I don’t make it home alive, you’ll know where to look.”

Jimin and Taehyung waved him off, entirely unsympathetic.

As their voices faded, silence settled between you and Jungkook. You pulled out your phone, feeling the energy of the moment start to dissipate. Feeling a little awkward in the silence.

“You don’t have to.” You said before he could speak.

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“I can get an Uber.” You clarified, tapping through the app. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, glancing around. The parking lot was mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers. “It’s like a five-minute drive.”

You shrugged. “You live in the opposite direction.”

“So?”

“So… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not an inconvenience. It’s my penalty, remember?”

You hesitated, still watching your phone screen as it searched for a ride. Unfortunately, there weren’t many cars nearby, and the estimated wait time was creeping up by the second.

Jungkook caught sight of it, and before you could argue again, he tilted his head at you, voice dropping slightly. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”

That made you look up. Surprised by his proximity. “I’m not being weird and don’t stand so close.”

“You kind of are.” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Unless you’re scared to be in a car with me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You shove your phone back in your pocket, “Oh, please.”

“Then just get in the car.” His voice was softer now, but still firm. “It’s literally a five-minute drive.”

You held his stare, lips pressing together in thought. There was something about the way he said it—not teasing, not pushy, just... certain.

You conceid. “Fine. But if you are going to bitch and moan about losing the whole time i’m going to tuck and roll out of the car.”

Jungkook smirked, already heading toward his car. “Who says I won’t need too.” 

Jungkook was parked pretty close to the entrance. His car was nice, you wouldn’t be able to say what kind of car it was but it was clean. Sleek, looked expensive. Leather interior and everything. Sitting down though the scent of his cologne completely filled your senses. Oh this wasn’t good. It made your mind wander, and you had to rip it back to reality. 

Jungkook’s car was warm, the hum of the engine low and steady as he pulled out of the parking lot. You kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the streetlights blur past, anything to keep your mind from acknowledging the way his cologne wrapped around you like a slow, suffocating trap.

Damn. Why did he have to smell so good?

Jungkook, to his credit, was quiet at first. He didn’t immediately start complaining about his loss, nor did he try to make conversation. It was almost... too quiet.

You risked a glance in his direction. His hands were steady on the wheel, his jaw tight, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He looked—careful. Hesitant, even.

“You always drive this slow?” You teased, cutting through the uncomfortable silence.

Jungkook scoffed, eyes flicking toward you before returning to the road. “I’m driving like a normal person.”

“Feels like you’re trying to drag this out.” You mused, turning back to the window.

“You think too highly of yourself.” He shot back, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You just shook your head, but didn’t push it further. The drive continued in an almost comfortable silence, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between you. The longer you sat there, the more you became acutely aware of him—his presence, the warmth of the car, the occasional sound of him drumming his fingers lightly on the wheel.

Then, without warning—

“I should’ve won.” Jungkook muttered, as if he’d been holding it the whole time.

You turned to him with a dramatic groan. “Oh my god.”

“I’m serious!” He continued, as if you hadn’t reacted. “You got lucky. That wasn’t skill.”

“It was absolutely skill.”

“It was a fluke.”

“A win is a win.”

Jungkook let out a scoff, shaking his head. “You got, like, three pins.”

“Three pins is enough to win.”

“You were aiming for the gutter.”

“I was not!” You reach over hitting him in the arm which doesn’t seem to elicit any reaction.

Jungkook gave you a side-eye so sharp you almost burst out laughing. “Next time, we’re doing best out of three.” He said, tone final.

“Next time?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward him. “So you’re assuming I’ll go bowling with you again?”

Jungkook’s grip on the wheel tightened for just a second. He hesitated, but only for a beat before recovering. “You’d love the chance to beat me twice.” he shrugged. “Admit it.”

You pursed your lips, pretending to consider. “Maybe.”

Another moment of silence stretched between you. You shifted slightly in your seat, playing with the hem of your sleeve. Something about the atmosphere had changed. It wasn’t just playful now, it was charged. The kind of tension that settled heavy in the air, making it harder to breathe, making your thoughts stray to places you weren’t sure they should go.

And yet, Jungkook couldn’t help himself. “Your technique is still trash, though. Who taught you to bowl? Your grandma?”

You turned to him, brows knitting together. “What? You’re not serious.”

Jungkook glanced at you, confused by your sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“You don’t remember?”

His frown deepened. “Remember what?”

“You taught me.”

Jungkook blinked. “When?”

“In college.” You studied his face, waiting for recognition to hit. When it didn’t, you sighed. “We were working on that project together. It was after I told you about everything with David. We were both drained that week, and you suggested we go bowling to take our minds off things. I told you I sucked, and you spent the whole night showing me how to throw the ball properly.”

Jungkook went still, the memory slowly threading its way back into his mind. A pause, then—

“Oh my god,” he muttered, realization dawning. “I did.”

You laughed softly at his delayed reaction. “Yeah. You did.”

He let out a short breath, shaking his head as he fully processed it. “Damn. I really created my own downfall, huh?”

You smirked, settling back against the seat. “Who knew your own teachings would come back to bite you?”

Jungkook shot you a side glance, lips twitching. “That’s the last time I will ever help you.”

“Time to tuck and roll.” You fake the motion to open the door, not actually intending to open the door for real. Your sudden motion makes Jungkook reach for your arm. His fingers catching around the top of your arm. 

“You’re insufferable.” Jungkook’s hand lingered for a moment too long before letting you go. You adjusted back in your seat. Your hands resting in your lap. 

Silence hung between the two of you again, not uncomfortable. Quiet and charged. Your eyes scanned the dashboard. Look at the navigation in the middle. Scanning over everything, the first mistake being when your eyes accidentally caught their attention on his hands. A relaxed grip on the wheel. 

Get your eyes off his hands.

The small voice in the back of your mind was almost screaming and you complied and pulled your eyes away. You had done a pretty good job tonight at not letting your mind drift in that direction but the silence was not helping. 

Jungkook out of the corner of his eye could see you shift in your seat. He couldn’t place if you were comfortable or not. Probably not, just because. Well it was him. Your hand came up scratching the back of your neck but it had inadvertently moved some of your hair away. It immediately made Jungkook’s mind return to last weekend. You were innocently helping him stretch out his neck, nothing intimate about it but his mind went back there. 

It was about your hands being on him.

Because unfortunately he knew what that felt like now. It was imprinted in his mind. He stopped himself dead in the tracks. Not just because if it went any further he was going to have a serious problem, but because it wasn’t right. 

Yeah you guys slept together so what. Water under the bridge. 

You shifted again, and it caught his attention again. What was happening? Why was he suddenly so focussed every time you moved? He needed to think of anything else, work or animals or something.

He rested one of his hands on the shifter in the center. It caught your attention. His hand rested too casually and too close. Keep your eyes locked out the window. Watch the pretty lights and stop thinking about his hands. You were not that desperate. Remember he’s Jungkook, gross disgusting, we hate that guy. 

You were saved by the bell though because you recognized the street as yours. You would be home in no time and go take a very very cold shower or something. Within a moment Jungkook, stopped at what he recognized to be your building. Vaguely remembering it from when he walked you that one time. 

With zero hesitation you were basically leaping to get out of the car. “Well have a good night, loser.” You say before closing the door before Jungkook could get a word in, his face was priceless though because there was annoyance all over it. Walking as quickly as you could to get into your building. 

Jungkook drove home. Playing music as loud as he could to drown out any thoughts that could enter his mind. Wanted or not.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

EDIT: Here is a little extra from the bowling scenes!

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Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl @kookienooki @in-out-inbetween @kookienooki @heartwith0uthe @washingmsheenheart @ninisica @btstrology @lilacstellar

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[writingsbychlo]

LAST TIME | tom riddle

summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.

word count; 4153

notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.

“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”

He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again. 

“Tom—”

“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”

“There is nothing to say—”

“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t—”

“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”

“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”

“But why?”

Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free. 

“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”

“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”

“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”

“Tom—”

“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face. 

“Okay, fine.”

And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night. 

You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls. 

The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life. 

The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out. 

The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind. 

The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument. 

The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm. 

You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. 

As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest. 

“Tom…”

“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”

“I do still love you, Tommy.”

“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.” 

Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again. 

“Have some faith in me.” 

Another kiss.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own. 

He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance. 

You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body. 

In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back. 

Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him. 

Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed. 

“Tom…”

His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling. 

He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin. 

“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”

Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest. 

Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”

Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment. 

His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans. 

Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp. 

“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”

“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”

It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form. 

“Tom, baby—”

“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”

With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. 

Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud. 

“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”

“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had. 

Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock. 

Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised. 

His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability. 

Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 

Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him. 

Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue. 

It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple. 

“Was that good, doll?”

“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”

His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you. 

His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap. 

You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”

He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name. 

“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”

“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad. 

Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair. 

“Tom, I’m—”

“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded. 

His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing. 

“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.” 

Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement. 

“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”

He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either. 

If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too. 

It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy. 

It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship. 

“Tommy…”

“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”

He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did. 

“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.” 

You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning. 

A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”

“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both. 

Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully. 

Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist. 

“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”

“I love—.”

“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”

His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”

He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”

[cherie-doll]

i hope the day is good for you 🫶🏻 (english is not my first language) can you please write a story with cod men, about what would they do when the reader doesnt make it home from the mission - like they are waiting at home for her but she's dead.

thx for submitting love <33

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Waited For You

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He didn't believe it at first, there was just no way... he immediately got to verifying all his sources, even went down to talk to the other soldiers who had been a part of your team

You were supposed to come home, he expected you to come back to him, safe and sound like always but instead of falling asleep and exhausted in his arms like you should've been by tonight, your corpse was out there somewhere missing his embrace

He thought of how he could've prevented this from happening, yes he still blamed himself for anything bad that happened to you despite it not being in his hands, maybe if he could've kept you from going, why did you even feel the need to continue doing this?

There was no one else he cared for as much as he did for you, which truly said a lot of your relationship, but since he met you he felt an overwhelming urge to show love like he'd never done before, nothing else on earth deserved this dedication like you did

He deteriorated rather quickly, the mornings became grim and he couldn't bear to see the sun setting without thinking of how much you loved letting the rays caress your arms and let your eyes take in that golden light, you looked so beautiful in those moments

Ghost

Since he met you, there was finally a stage in his life he could think of purely, sure the relationship wasn't perfect, but this was something he could be reminded of and he didn't have to fight to keep it hidden in the back of his mind, he let the memories emerge to the surface and ponder about them

It had been something pleasant but it had been ripped out of his hands far sooner than he would've wanted, his fantasy that had become a corrupted reality, it makes him want to die, badly, but he always found a way to survive the deadliest situations, somehow he always did; as if he was cursed with immortality

But this? He felt no desperation urging him to dig out of the hole he was sinking into, the walls closing in on him from all sides and he made no effort to push it away, it felt sort of relieving being cramped and paralyzed since he couldn't see the path ahead of him, with you it had become so obvious and clear what he wanted but now there was nothing worth moving towards

Did life always want something from him? Just when he thought he lost everything he could lose, there was always something else being pried out of him, it was painful because it was forcefully taken away just when he was getting attached, when there was no foreseeable evil trying to destroy him there was some good, and you had been the best unexpected thing in his life

Soap

You were like an illusion he had always dreamed of and finally were achieved, a life so dreamy and ideal he thought would never be in his reach, but he had been permitted to have it for a short while with you

Within your time together a love so beautiful had bloomed, it was sweet how sublime it had felt, you had been youthful, still beaming with so much life within you but tragically cut short, those years had gone and went unused

He couldn't find the sense within him to comprehend why it had to be you, your death had been like a cold slap to the face, he had once again become aware of the disheartening reality he lived in, that nothing was secure nor did everything stay the same forever

Well, he knew about the forever part, but did it have to come so soon? He had to gather the strength within him to continue forward and he wasn't even sure of that, there was still so much left unsaid, so much still to be done, and how frustrated he was that it would all be forgotten and left unfulfilled

A sadness like no other would coat his existence, swallow him up and change him beyond recognition, his mind would be invaded by memories of you that will replay until they burned and ceased to exist... the day he ceased to exist

Gaz

All those days that he had spent with you had been the most fulfilling days he had ever experienced, he could remember the warmth of your hand, the weight of your body asleep next to him on the mattress, the security knowing you valued his affection and returned it

He truly felt the happiest with you and he wished to be encased in that happiness forever, but how naive it was of him to think it was possible for even a second, life was always moving and throwing hurdles at us that seem impossible to avoid, it's only a matter of time misfortunes come to us all

By simply contemplating and reminiscing, he felt grief beyond help and any consolation couldn't do much for him, wistful memories came to him and he could not sleep at night, all they did was leave a dark imprint on his mind

His caring nature did not change, he thought with time he could heal and learn to move on, but some things never change, and a sore spot still brings pain when pressed too hard, he would mull over this no matter how painful it was to do so

How he misses to hold you in this moment and kiss you

Roach

The news of your death came like a hard blow to his face, and he was left clutching his chest, eyes watering with tears as he desperately tried to cling onto some comforting memory in his mind

Restlessness follows immediately, even at night sleep does not come to him no matter what he does, the memories you shared seemed to tear him apart rather than anything help him, but he didn't want to forget you either

He knew he couldn't get you back and he had lost you forever in this life, panting and gasping he would awaken from his nightmares, the little sleep he got would do nothing to comfort him, and you weren't there to comfort him, to silently hold nor ease with your voice in his ear

His mind wanted to deceive his heart, make him believe you were somewhere far away but still thinking of him, that he could close his eyes and imaging resting his head on your shoulders, basking in serenity as he lost himself in the waves that lulled him

Alejandro

He was overtaken by bitterness and anger, his better judgement was clouded far beyond reason at the most valuable treasure in his life forever gone, the feeling of longing would become a hole he'd spend his days trying to fill with wrongful acts

All he wanted and needed was your touch to remind him reality was there and not as cruel as he thought, you had still met and loved in your time and nothing could take away what had already been done, he could live blissfully in life knowing you had known each other

But could he be satisfied with that? He could strongly feel the ties that bound you together still tug at his heart, and every year he remembered you, would set an altar for you and fill it with what were your favorite foods and things

He would stare at your imagine, remembering how he once had kissed those lips, stared into your sparkling eyes that watched him endearingly, your face he had held within his hands...

He could never have that back

Rudy

He missed delicately tracing your face, his fingertip raising softly over every curve and line, your silhouette against the wall when you rose that morning, early so you could still say your goodbyes to him and tell him to expect you back very soon, this one wouldn't be too long you said

You had left him a content man, he'd sit around the house and wait, he would take it easy these days because you'd be back soon, but he wasn't ready to withstand the tumult he'd find himself in

His heart had become haggard in the days following your death, he had absorbed every bit of warmth and clung to the last signs that you had left behind, he wished he had been there, to ease your last painful moments before death, how much did that train of thought torment him, day and night it ran through his mind

In sleep, he dreamt of terrible ways you had encountered death, surely, you didn't have a peaceful one, you were healthy and fit to make it, something terrible must have happened but no matter how much he wished to know the cause of your death it wasn't given, most likely for the best to remain unknown

Phillip Graves

He often boasted of having you in his life, it was such a fortunate occurrence when you met that he didn't think it was entirely a coincidence, he loved doting on you and hold you in his arms knowing you were there for him

You had already confirmed the date of your return, but that day came and passed and there was no sign of you, worse yet no message or word had been heard on your part, it was he who had to dig and find out that you had been KIA

It felt like a strong blow to his chest to have you ripped away from him, he knew the harsh reality and danger he was constantly under, he just never imagined it would get to you one day

You shouldn't have paid for his sins or errors, he wished you had stayed out of the battle, but you had your own life to carve out and ultimately it had been your decision

Much time would have to pass before he'd be able to say your name, for the longest time he'd whisper it, as if afraid it'd shatter his reality even more, staying in the air reminding him of what he lost

Makarov

You were forever gone from his grasp, how was he to cope with that? The fire that had warmed his insides, making every act of his be out of love for you suddenly halted, reduced to nothing but ashes and now he was left to sweep the heaps of it

The emptiness growing and knowing there wasn't a piece to fit or make him whole again like you, you were a unique piece, the edges weren't cut with delicacy that an experienced hand could replicate, there wasn't a mold to follow to shape something else into you

You sprung out of chaos and spontaneity with ease, there was a lightheartedness you brought out in him that brought out the best in him, all of it offered to you who didn't greedily take but lovingly returned

He didn't want to believe someone like you could just be taken away from him and have nothing done about it, just when he thought he could be tender he'd return to his old ways, the resentment stronger than ever and tied to his heart, obscuring and consuming him

Keegan

How despairing did this turn out for him, never had he imagined he'd lose you, all that time he had spent training with you, preparing for when the worst could happen and each time you had managed to slip away, always

Except this time you weren't fast enough, he knew those shoulders held up a levelheaded person, who confidently calculated their every move, it was unfair you had been taken

His brows are now furrowed, thinking this just has to be some sort of protocol you're following, faking a death isn't all that uncommon, maybe you were still alive out there, hiding away somewhere for your safety, each day he held the pitiful hope that you'd come back to him, then he'd nurse your injuries and help you stand back up

But moons waxed and waned and you didn't appear, and he couldn't hold the fragments of you close to his heart if you wouldn't be around to reignite them and make them come true again

His palm that had curled, clutching the remnants loosed and he had to give up that foolish dream and accept reality as it was being presented

König

Was it cruel if he wished it was you who had received the news instead of him? He thought it would have been that way, he often joked about the benefits you'd get when he passed, it wasn't supposed to be you to leave earlier than him

Relaxed he was sitting in the armchair until he received the terrible news, his breaths became desperate as he tried to get air into his lungs, he wanted to march down there to the field himself to collect you, to not believe it just yet

Maybe you'd be down there, hiding away in some corner like the sly fox you were and say you had managed to dodge the bullet this time

But he was disappointed with the outcome of things, he hated it when things didn't follow the path he set for them but no one could have controlled the outcome of this course, it had left a profound wound in his heart he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal from

You had parted without saying your goodbyes and now he wouldn't be able to live with that, to live longer still with you in the back of his mind

Horangi

He hated anything that brought the slightest trace of despair, and he dealt horribly with it, he ran on pure serendipity but now he couldn't count on that, was it by being at the wrong place and time you had been one of the lives lost, the most important one to him

He felt the urge to go back to his old ways of numbing out the pain, but he pushed that temptation away, it would only drain his money and everything he had worked for go to waste, he knew you wouldn't have wanted that for him and right now he just wished to keep the traces of you very much alive and present

He wanted to go about his days as if you were still there, the flower you planted, he tried to keep it alive and water it, the way you left your stuff around the house, that way it was easier to transport himself to a time when you were there with him, still at home

The people of the past are hard to forget but he didn't mind, he faced the situation with more determination than he himself expected, he was surprised at the resolve he had come up with

He had loved without regret, and with every passing day he'd be closer to reuniting with you again

Nikto

The only sound occupying the complete silence is the static in his mind, he's just numb, doesn't know what to do, what he should do with whatever emotions he's trying to detect, he must feel something

He was just delivered the worst news of his life, he should be breaking down and crying but he can barely even process the fact that you really are gone, he looses his train of thought every five seconds and can only stare forward as if in a trance he's unable to escape out of

He feels the long seconds drag by but he can't get up from his fixed spot on the chair, it's like a knife has been plunged into his side and pulled out, leaving the gaping wound pulsating softly, but he can barely hear his flesh scream out in pain, he can only feel the blood oozing out, staining his clothes and falling to the floor in droplets as he actively ignores it

He is hurt but can only clutch at it, he can't get up, feels far too comfortable sitting on this kitchen chair staring forward to the wall, elbows resting on his knees

[adeepdeepslumber]

"do you remember the time?" - itoshi rin

remember the time - michael jackson

you were a blur in his memories. he remembered the traces, the faint shape of your familiar face, but your features were blurred, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember how you looked like, the face he once adored with all his heart.

lights flashed in his eyes, blinding, but recently, one thing had been on rin's mind. he had a lingering feel in his heart, one he couldn't pinpoint the source of. soccer was his number one priority, when he was younger he abandoned the others. recently, he had a guilty feeling he'd abandoned something far more important than a mere numbered priority.

"itoshi rin! have you ever loved someone before?" a voice behind the bright flashing lights of the countless cameras surrounding him questioned. his first love? rin's mind wandered, his eyes misty, trying to find the reason why his heart was overcome with a strange feeling, a mix of guilt, regret, and -.. hope?

still drenched with sweat from the soccer match, his wispy bangs covered his face as he looked down. why was this so familiar? this was especially weird, he'd forgot almost all of his childhood since making soccer his dream, his comfort. something clicked in him, he remembers.

-maybe if he didn't, he would have avoided it-

rin never answered the question. ignoring the reporter, he sent a cold and unwelcoming gaze to all that were in front of him, trying to take pictures, trying to get him to answer them. "maybe if you all weren't so desperate, you'd actually get ahead in life." rin bluntly stated, classic of him to rudely dismiss others.

a trip back to kamakura, his hometown, could do him some good. he'd gotten a break since his recent match, but all that occupied his mind was the itching feeling that what he was looking for was here.

the atmosphere was cold, white mist floated into the air when rin breathed out. the swing he sat on was old and rusted, it creaked whenever he swung his legs in the slightest. but he was here, waiting, for someone.

for you.

and there he saw it, his heart swelled at the sight of you, a scarf covering your chin, carrying a guitar case on you back, with a plastic bag full of snacks in one hand. your hair moved with the wind that blew past, and small exhales that you made produced white mist. internally, his arm reached out to you, trying to grab you and communicate with you.

rin muttered your name, unaware of it's volume. your head turned to the familiar but faint sound of your name being uttered. one glance of his wispy bangs that covered his eyes, one that you used to complain about since you could barely see his eyes, the eyes that used to look at you with so much warmth and comfort, once looked at you to with a sharp, disregarding touch. one that made you feel worthless. this time, his teal eyes were full of hope and desire, your breath hitched seeing that.

"rin?.." your mouth was parted, and your hair blew in your face due to the wind. that didn't matter right now. what did, was that he was here. how could he just show up here, after he told you that you were nothing to him, that he only led you on as he "didn't want you to realize early" that the spark between you two was long gone.

you two were presently at the ripe age of 21, but when you were in your teenage years, you loved each other. but one day, rin told you the words that haunted you till now.

"i really did love you, but eventually you grew to mean nothing to me."

he told you that he wanted to focus on soccer, that you were dragging him down and slowing him. he told you that he really did love you, he told you that you were a dead weight on him. and then he acted like you never existed. after that, he just left this town behind, left you and his ties with you behind. so why is he here now, asking to talk again?

"rin, why are you here?" your tone became more serious, as the anger towards him that grew over time, started spilling out. you'd see him on television, he made a name for himself, you hated him. you hated what he did to you, and how he threw away everything so easily. but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him. you'd thought that it was just a teenage relationship failure, that you could get over it. but it clung to you, haunted you.

rin bit his bottom lip, nails digging deep into his palm. "i..i.." stuttering out of anxiousness, he knew you hated him for what he'd done, and he hated how he got rid of any memory, any remnants of the love you and him once shared, just to focus on soccer. he'd hated how he completely forgot about you. and he knew you did too.

"someone asked me if i'd ever fallen in love before," rin gripped the rusty chains of the swing tightly before letting go and walking towards you. "i thought of you."

soon, he was in front of you, towering over you. frustration built up inside you, but you couldn't resist the look of his eyes, one that pleaded to just listen to him.

"you threw away everything we had, you completely forgot about me. how can you just simply say that you thought of me when you did all that?" the frustration slipped through your voice, revealing itself. you don't know why, you said you were over it, that it would never hurt you again, but tears spilled from your eyes. it fell down your cheeks, as the rims of you eye slowly became redder.

you were on the verge of breaking down completely, crumbling into the shards of your raw emotions. rin could see this, and guilt overtook his heart. your voice shook and quivered, but still, you stood strong, desperate for rin to understand what he put you through, the countless nights of crying in your room, curled up like a ball on the floor, wondering what you ever did so wrong that he had to leave you.

his bottom lip quivered, and he wanted to deny everything, but he knows he can't. "you said you really did love me. then why did you just leave?" your eyes filled with rage, stared at him, asking for a reason.

"i did. i did love you. but i loved soccer more then."

this earned you a scoff. "doesn't give you an excuse to just forget everything, to just throw everything away." poking a finger at his chest, you glared up at him. "rin, i'm done. you left me first, but you came back first. it's my turn to leave you now." with an extra sharpness in your tone, you turned to leave, but rin held your wrist.

"please, please, really just, listen to me."

maybe you shouldn't have, then you would have avoided it.

you stayed.

"i know i hurt you, i know it was uncalled for, and just horrible of me. i threw away everything i ever had for soccer, including you. but i didn't know you were more important to me than 'just a distraction'. i thought about you from time to time, but eventually forgot about you, i was too focused on soccer, on beating my rivals."

rin's eyes stared at you with longing, hoping you would understand what he was trying to tell, that you would hear him out. no matter how hard you tried to resist against the mental restraints on you to leave and never turn back, you couldn't deny.. you missed him.

"i'm sorry. please, give me another chance. i promise, i'll treat you better then i did before, you'll never be a 'distraction' anymore, i'll never throw what we have away."rin's eyes bore into yours with determination, the eyelashes you used to get jealous of complimented it even more.

eyes really were the window to the soul, huh?

"i didn't want to say this, but," rin's ears and cheek turned a faint pink, blush tinged his ears, covering his face with his hand. "i love you. i really do, i miss you."

i missed you too.

you muttered the words so lightly, but rin still caught it. his eyes seemed to have gained a spark, and he looked at you with so much hope in his eyes.

"can we try again?"

rin gripped your wrist tighter, anxious for your reply.

"do you remember the time when we fell in love?"

rin nodded, the slightest smile making its way to his face. "i loved you with all my heart. i've only noticed now, but i still do." your hair framed your face perfectly, and rin couldn't keep his eyes off you. you were gorgeous. "so, you haven't answered my question."

"promise you won't repeat it again."

"i promise."

you reciprocated his action of gripping onto your wrist, only now gripping his hand tighter than ever. rin's hands made way to your face, his face leaning in closer to yours, till your noses touched. he let out a smile, the sweetest one you'd ever seen in you entire life. both of you chuckled, and your lips made contact. he smiled into the kiss, and held you face so gently, but with the intention of never letting you go. your arms wrapped around his neck, ruffling his hair as you two shared a kiss filled with hope, and a promise sealed with it. you two loved each other, if you'd never confessed the love for him that was hidden deep in your heart under all the hatred you had, maybe you wouldn't be drawn back to him.

maybe this could work out again.

remember the time - michael jackson

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs + his s/o realises what has happened ; our ! ciel phantomhive

requested by ; zetsubobu (16/07/23)

fandom(s) ; black butler

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; our!ciel phantomhive

outline ; “Anyways I'm obsessed with black butler so can I request (if possible a little fic but headcanons are also fine) yandere older ciel phantomhive with a reader that figured out that he's behind the mysterious deaths of their close ones but it's already too late at this point and has captured them?”

warning(s) ; yandere!our!ciel phantomhive, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, isolation, violent behaviour and murder (not towards the reader)

ciel had been so very careful, taking every possible measure he could think of to ensure you remained blissfully ignorant to the true depths of his infatuation with you and just how much blood he’s gotten on his hands because of it. but, unfortunately, whether it was one big mistake or a thousand tiny slip ups you somehow ended up stumbling upon the truth he’d so desperately tried to hide from you

that the untimely murders of your closest family members and friends — the very incidents that brought the two of you together when he’d oh so kindly offered to investigate them for you — were little more than a ploy to destroy your support network and push you into his arms

that he had been the one behind every brutal death, staged suicide, and unfortunate accident that had plagued your social circle for years

that he’d sit there and console you, promising you protection and support and all sorts of wonderful things you had only ever dreamed of before, all while having the blood of the very loved ones you were grieving staining his hands

that the funerals he arranged and paid for, the memorial services he dutifully attended with you on his arm, and the supposedly intensive investigations into each incident he was heading, were all part of some sick game for him — that he’d used your grief to paint himself as your prince charming, manipulated you from hour one, and that it had fucking worked

that the man you’d married, that you’d loved with all of your heart, had made your life a living nightmare just to keep you by his side — and gotten some poor innocent man executed in his place

you feel sick

your head is spinning, mind racing a mile a minute, and you feel like you’re about to pass out

your heart aches

your stomach churns

your throat runs dry

your eyes sting

you want to run

you want to die

you want to turn back time and make it so you and the earl phantomhive never crossed paths

but you can’t because this is ciel you’re talking about and he’s got eyes on every corner and ears down every street — running from him would be about as successful as trying to keep yourself dry at the bottom of the ocean

and as his wife — god the word makes your teeth ache — you’ve got even less of a chance of getting out because you depend on him for everything

he’s an earl, the queen’s guard dog, and you know for a fact he holds a significant sway in the criminal underground — and you’re just… his wife

a woman with nowhere else to go, nowhere to run to, and nobody to reach out to. everyone you speak to these days knew ciel first — his servants, his family, his friends, his associates — so there’s no way in hell that anyone would keep a secret from him.

you have nothing

you are nothing

and he knows it, you think… or at the very least he orchestrated things to be this way — the murders, the social isolation, the careful integration into his social circles, etc.

you almost feel like a marionette, a puppet on strings that he’s been manipulating behind the scenes for years, and all you can do is laugh

manically

hysterically

mournfully

because now you know the truth — that your life and marriage have been built on a carefully constructed web of lies, that every death your family suffered was because of one man’s obsession with you, that you can’t even fight back or run away because you don’t even know the extent of what your husband is capable of anymore — and, worse still, you can’t even do anything about it

all you can do is stay right where you are and pray you don’t meet the same fate as the others once he realises that you know too much

… til death do you part indeed

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Twenty-Nine: Karl Heisenberg + BreathPlay

You were constantly reaching out for Karl's hand. Enjoying the rough feeling of his cussed-covered fingers against your much softer hands.

Karl didn't seem to mind either after the initial shock that someone was touching him. Wantingly touching. You walked hand in hand to meet with the family and sat side by side. Pressed into his side, but continuously your fingers were interlocked.

Hand in hand when you walked around in town, and as much as Karl hated the idea of being around less intelligent people than him. He allowed you to drag him down to the middle of town and walk around the shops before returning to the factory after a long day out.

That was not the only time you wished that you could hold his touch. You yearned for a hand to run smoothly down your back and sometimes rest at the bottom of your spine. You longed for the soft touch of his rough hand.

You are the exact opposite of Karl. You yearn for the touch of another, and Karl yearns to not be touched. Karl is okay with his lonely life before you came along, and he's just as content with living it how it is now.

Yes, you are confused because when you look at Karl, you don't see just a friend, someone to talk to when the nights are quiet, and the factory is slow. No, Karl is something else for you. A bright light at the end of the tunnel. He's what you yearn for.

So when the touch you yearn for splits and turns into a need that you have to fill, something twists within your mind. You start to stare off more. Staring at Karl's hands as he works on bits of metal together, or how he tightness things together on a soldat.

The one that as you biting your tongue and squeezing your thigh together is when his hands stretch out, his metal hammer flying into his hand. It's attractive all on its own. The bludge of his veins, the girth of his fingers, it all has you in a haze.

"Y/n? Are you even paying attention to what I'm talking about?" Karl's booming voice pulls you from your naughty thoughts of his hands. "Huh." You say a bit too loud, and he rolls his eyes, "Earth to Y/n, what's got you being a space cadet today?" He asks, intrigued by your glazed-over eyes and gap mouth.

Karl has never seen you like this, and he's seen you in many ways. Blood smeared across your cheeks. A mixture of your own and others, your shirt half tore due to lycans desperately in need of stitches. Bare skin that makes his heart race every time he catches a glimpse. Y/n had been off, and Karl had taken notice. Take notice of how your gaze drifted from his face, down his arms, and then finally landed on his hands.

"I'm just… it's all fine." You say to Karl, trying to push away the fact that you not only got caught but also have no idea you were spacing out. His stare is deathly; you're an open book for him to read as much as he likes.

"No… I don't believe you. I think you were off dreaming…" You shake your head, trying to push him away from the right path he's already on. "Don't shake your head at me now, buttercup. Better if you just fess up to what you were thinkin' about." You feel like a deer in headlights. Wide-eyed and easily scared off.

The silence is unsettling, "Oh, buttercup, you want me to guess instead." Smirking up a storm, you think that's rather a good idea, and then it's a bad idea. But there's nothing else you can do. If you say the words, then it's all too real, but if he guesses it, then it means Karl already knows.

"I think…" He says, getting up from the side of the table, heavy boots on the ground beneath you. "you have been very naughty…" With each punch of the words that fall from his mouth, his hands graze up your back like you've always wished for. "thinkin' about me, and my hands." You breathe in quickly. If it's due to his touch or his words, you'll never know.

"I bet you've thought up a bunch of dirty things." He whispers into your ear. His voice was rough and scratchy. "I bet you would love it if I just wrapped my hand around your throat and kept you right on the edge all night long." You moan as you feel his hand reach the base of the back of your neck. "Let me just sink my fat cock into your tight pussy, hmm, squeeze your throat so you stars." You whimper as you clench your thighs tightly, willing the ache to go away.

Then just like that, Karl is gone, walking back over to his side of the table. You're left like a puppy following its owner. Shock is written all over your face. "Oh, what do you want more buttercup." He mutters as he walks off and towards the direction of the bedroom.

You follow like a lovesick puppy would.

Completed on: 08/20/23

Posted on: 10/28/23

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Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List // Kinktober '23