#as well as making text appear out of nowhere

[qs63]

You're right there is a lot we agree on, but also stuff where we differ, and that is a pretty cool thought experiment about text interpretation!

In terms of translation there's not much of a difference. In the Japanese manga Hohenheim roughly says: as for the organs that were taken away, it is the mark of your crime, therefore I can't put them back.

It's a little too vague for my taste. From Hohenheim's words alone he could totally mean he's physically unable to give her back her organs. That's what he's saying outright. I do think we have evidence elsewhere to prove that it's not exactly the case.

First I'll make a distinction between:

Human transmutation/the taboo

Alchemy healing/human transformation

Exchanging with Truth

I agree that you can't/mustn't create/replace something that has been taken away by Truth, or just any human flesh in general.

When Roy mentions he's going to create a charred corpse, Breda freaks out and asks if he's going to perform human transmutation. Roy responds something like: don't be silly I'm going to transmute something that fakes the appearance of a human corpse. The implication here is that even creating a human corpse would be trespassing. It makes sense, if alchemists could easily transmute body parts they wouldn't need automail. But it's not impossible to create flesh, the brothers did create that monster like body, the price is just way too heavy.

Healing is different, you can mend and transform stuff that already exists in the real world. Ie. Father fixing Ed's broken arm, Hohenheim rearranging Izumi's organs, Mai closing Riza's neck. But also transforming a human into a stone doesn't count as taboo, Marcoh hasn't been through the door, nor does transmuting a human into a chimera, Shou Tucker did not go through the door.

It's the act of creating flesh itself that's taboo.

So exchanging with Truth shouldn't count either. You're not creating flesh, you're just making an exchange. You won't go through the portal or have to pay a new toll by doing this. So the times the brothers saw truth while making an exchange and the times that people saw Truth after breaking the taboo are different circumstances.

Ed sort of explained this to Ling and Envy when he said he would commit the taboo again by recreating his own flesh, hoping the portal would open that way. He wasn't even sure it would work, because he didn't know whether deconstructing and recreating a living human being would satisfy the conditions for the taboo. It did work and Truth was happy to accept someone else's soul as payment in this case.

Regarding him not seeing the knowledge again. Well, he most likely did, we just don't see it outright. Arakawa didn't illustrate Roy, Izumi, or Hohenheim seeing the knowledge either. She doesn't have to. We know what happens thanks to the brothers, and she has other ways of showing us when the portal is being opened and when it's not.

The eye of truth, aka the true form of the portal.

When Ed gets Al's soul he doesn't go through the door, and there is no eye of truth. He performs a transmutation and we see Truth take his arm that's all. Same when Al gives Ed his arm back. He performs the transmutation and appears in the white space out of nowhere. The door is never shown to open. Not once we see the eye of truth in this scene. And again when Ed gets Al's body back. Ed performs a transmutation and appears in white space far from the door. The door does open at the end, but there's no eye of truth shown at any moment nor are they dragged away by the hands. The two of them just seem to go back to the real world, not through the portal aka the eye.

On the other hand the eye opens every single time a human transmutation is performed. It shows up with Hohenheim's and father's, with the brothers's, with Roy's, AND with Ed's second transmutation. The graphics for Ed's second transmutation and his first are actually quite similar, which is not the case any other time the brothers see Truth to exchange payment.

Below is also the contrast between Ed opening the door by committing the taboo (from within gluttony) and him going to see Truth to exchange payment (when getting Al's body back). There's no eye of truth, and he doesn't arrive through the door in the second scenario.

Arakawa seems to at least be trying to make a difference between committing the taboo and exchanging payment. Going to see Truth to exchange something does not seem to open the portal. So what Ed did inside of gluttony was 100% a second human transmutation with a new toll to be paid, both per Arakawa's drawing intention and Ed's own explanation. I think it's just hard to know what new knowledge he gained, if any, because he's already seen it once.

Yes, Truth accepting the stone here can be read as a contradiction to Hohenheim's words. That's why I interpret his "I can't" a bit more ambiguously. Like he can't do it because he doesn't agree with it. Or even, he can't do it because he can't afford to use any of the souls within him yet.

Otherwise you end up in a situation where the toll can and can't be paid by a stone. The stone was okay for Ed's second payment and Roy's retroactive one. So that's two scenarios vs Hohenheim vague words. And while it wasn't a stone, Al's retroactive payment wasn't personal either. He didn't lose his alchemy, Ed did. That's quite convenient for Al if the price to pay truly had to be personal. Or is Ed in God's eyes somehow completely responsible for both of their sins and that's why Al is allowed to get away without paying anything himself while other people can't?

Lol I don't know. Hohenheim being his usual unhelpful and enigmatic self is what makes sense to me.

I think one of the few genuine plotholes in Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood & Manga) is the fact that Roy Mustang can get healed by the Philosopher's Stone in the end.

Hear me out.

Quite often, when something isn't answered in the text of fma(b), the answer can still be procured by building up from the existing canon. The magic system of the world is solid and consistent enough for us to create very solid and coherent world building.

Which is why it always irked me in the end when the Stone works on Roy's eyes.

Why?

Because it is heavily implied that not even a Stone has the power to restore what was lost to the Gate. This is of course, not something we as the audience know or believe from the get-go. We are introduced to the Stone via the Elric brothers, who mostly just know that this mystical stone can do the unthinkable. The impossible.

But, as we later learn, not even the Stone can bring back the dead. Death is eternal and cannot be reversed. It is one of the hard truths of the show. No matter how much power you hold, you cannot bring back the dead.

Even Father's showing in the last fight, when he brings back the people of Xerxes, fails to actually deliver on Hohenheim's taunt of "creating life" - because he is just returning souls he already carries within him to the physical realm.

So, that's the first limitation of the Philosopher's Stone firmly established.

But there's a second one.

We know the Stone can heal - Marcoh uses it to heal countless people in his town, some even from deadly diseases and such. We see Father heal Edward's broken arm and create an entirely new arm for Alphonse after his got eaten. Edward uses his own soul like a Stone to close the wound in Baschool, so, yes, healing is firmly within the realms of the Stone.

It is probably far more effective than Alkehistry when it comes to healing, because it CAN ignore the boundaries of the body. I'd actually go so far and say that someone talented and medically knowledgeable could maybe even restore a limb with the help of a Philosopher's Stone. We've seen it do the impossible after all.

But I don't think a Philosopher's Stone could ever actually restore Ed's limbs. Not in the classical sense at least.

Why?

Because when Hohenheim encounters Izumi and tries to help her, he cannot restore her lost organs. He cannot walk that path for her. He can heal her - he rearranges her inner organs and heals the open wounds within her gut, probably giving her another ten years of healthier living, but he cannot return to her what is lost.

He also never offers Ed to give him his limbs back, even after everything has been revealed and they're preparing for the Promised Day.

(He does promise to sacrifice himself for Al in the end, but we'll get to that in a bit)

This is something the Elrics don't know - they don't know what Hohenheim did and did not do for Izumi. They believe, up to the end, that they could restore their bodies with a Philosopher's Stone, but they choose not to.

I think, actually, that Hohenheim might be the only one who knows that it is not possible.

Because what they have lost was a price paid for pushing past the boundaries of humanity, it is a punishment for arrogance just as much as it is a toll for knowledge gained. They didn't lose their organs during childbirth, their arms and legs on the battlefield. All of them walked into god's domain and paid the price.

It is the Unforgivable Sin, after all, the Ultimate Taboo.

This is not something you can reverse by paying a bribe (the souls of the stone) - not unless there's a personal sacrifice bound to it as well.

Which is why it probably would have worked if Hohenheim had given his own life for Alphonse - because it would have been the sacrifice of a father for his son. Equivalency restored.

To get back what you've lost from the Gate, there needs to be an Equivalent Exchange - and the souls of strangers don't do it in the Eye of Truth.

Which doesn't mean that you cannot open the Portal of Truth with a Philosopher's Stone. We've seen it. It is possible. But never once successfully when it comes to the restoration of a body. You can push through the Gate using a Stone, you can heal, you can force someone else through the Gate... but you cannot restore what the Gate itself has taken.

That is a much more personal gamble, a much more personal exchange.

It is the second limitation of the Stone: you cannot gain back the toll you paid for stumbling into god's realm without sacrificing something yourself.

Which brings me to my original point: the fact that Roy Mustang's eye sight could be restored using a Stone.

It's a plot hole.

It is one of the few plot holes in the show/manga, and even as I write this, I am trying to think of a watsonian explanation. Maybe it's because Roy didn't do the human transmutation out of his own free will. Maybe it's because he was forced through. Maybe it's because Truth feels responsible for what happened to him. Maybe the story is lenient to him and his wish to see the future.

But the truth remains, that every time I encounter this story, that part of it trips me up.

And now you know it too.

[tails-is-cool]

just watched the amazing digital circus and honestly i get the jax hype he's very gender

[luvismenu]

their first time fucking —

⋆˚࿔ fuckboy!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ extra ࣪ ִֶָ☾. written, nsfw

series m.list

♡ — permanent taglist: @https-mei @blaricee @blluee28 @jkvias @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @wnteraezz @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg @elinaki92 @sweetmimosa28

“are you sure about this?”

“yes, like i said, go slo— i told you to go slow jungkook!”

“oh fuck-”

“you ruined it!!!” you exclaim as you watch jungkook lose a game that the two of you have been playing for the last 30 minutes. well, he's the one playing and you're kind of.. helping.

you wanted to play, but he insisted he wanted to play alone because you're a 'nerd' and couldn't play as well as he could—which earned him a smack on the head from you.

“i told you, you have to wait until the monster appears,” you huff, and he slumps back into the couch.

“okay, expert, whatever,” he shrugs.

“yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes.

jungkook relaxes into the couch, his head thrown back as he groans, “where is this mother fu—”

ding!

“i think you got a text,” you say, glancing at his phone on the small table beside the couch.

“oh, you think so?” he mocks, and you glare him.

hoseok invited you for your usual study session. normally, you both would go to the library or the café he likes, which you didn't mind. today, though, he said he wanted to study at his frat house because it would just be the two of you.

and you couldn't miss a chance like that now would you?

but when you arrived, hoseok was nowhere to be found, and it was jungkook who let you in.

what a fun way to find out that all the fuckboys live in the same house.

jungkook told you that the other members were out doing what they usually do—things you'd rather not know about.

and now, you're just waiting for hoseok to come back.

“oh... okay,” jungkook says aloud as he sets his phone aside, turning to you.

“was it him? is he coming?” you ask.

“nah, he's getting wasted with the others, probably won't be back until.. i don't know, early morning i guess?” jungkook replies, “oh and i told him you were here. he said he's sorry that he forgot and told me to tell you to go home safe.”

you sulk at his words.

he notices.

“he... forgot?” you ask, your voice dropping.

“that's what he said. if you don't believe me, you can take my phone and see his texts.”

“no, no, i mean...” you sigh. “uh sorry, i should get going then.”

you stand up, grabbing your bag. but before you can take a step forward, jungkook speaks up.

“we can play another game if you want.”

you look at him. he holds up his controller, placing the second one beside him.

“together.”

“i am tired,” he groans, throwing the controller onto the couch as he walks toward the kitchen and you follow him.

“for a fuckboy, you have less stamina,” you joke.

“i was studying the whole day—”

you raise a brow.

“i know, yeah me, studying?? woah, impossible!!” he mocks himself, then continues more seriously, “trust me, i study.”

he grabs a can of beer from the fridge and closes it. “sometimes.”

you can't help but scoff a laugh.

“you don't have to explain yourself,” you say, crossing your arms as he takes a sip of the beer before responding.

“i know, but it's you i’m talking to, so—”

“what do you mean, me?”

he tilts his head. “aren't we friends?”

“yeah?”

he smiles. “then i gotta prove that i’m not as bad as you think i am.”

“i don't—”

“you do.”

you think for a second and sigh. “i do.”

that makes both of you chuckle.

“i think i should go now, it's getting late,” you tell jungkook, glancing at the clock on the wall. you walk toward the door, and he follows you.

“thank you for the ice cream,” you say, referring to the treat you had a few minutes ago.

“it's okay, it wasn't mine anyway,” he shrugs, and you gasp.

“what the fuck, why did you let me eat it then?”

“relax! it’s hoseok's. he wouldn't mind since he literally ditched you tonight,” he says, then realizes how it sounds as he sees the change in your expression. “i didn't mean—”

“no, it's okay. he did kind of ditch me, but it doesn't really matter. i can meet him some other time.” you smile, trying to ease the awkwardness.

you're kinda rethinking about getting fucked by him anyway.

“right...” he trails off.

you both stand there for a moment, the silence stretching between you before he breaks it.

“so, i guess i'll text— mmph.” and you do it again. you cut him off just like when you first met him, but this time, the kiss lasts longer.

“w-wait,” he breathes out as he pulls back, staring at you. “you wanna fuck?”

“well, i don't know—”

“why did you kiss me then?” he asks

you look at him. why did you kiss him?

because hoseok isn't available? no.

because you're desperate? ... you're not sure.

“i don't know…” you finally say.

he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“i just wanted to,” you add, and he's visibly surprised.

“is that wrong?” you continue, your eyes searching his.

jungkook's gaze softens. “no,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his voice barely a whisper. “but you don't like fuckboys and also we're friends—”

“yes, but tonight's different.” you say, reaching out to tug him back towards you, “you know, like a one time thing.”

he raises an eyebrow, his voice uncertain. “so, you wanna fuck and then wake up tomorrow like nothing happened? like we didn't do anything?”

you roll your eyes. “if you keep talking, we really won't do anything.”

“okay then final question, answer this with a yes or no” he says, his tone teasingly demanding, almost childish, and it makes you scoff a laugh.

“what?”

he smirks.

“wanna fuck?”

you smirk back.

“yes.”

───────── the wall ─────────

“o-oh fuck, jungkook, yes!” you moan out, your fingers tangled in his hair. his head is buried between your thighs, which are wrapped tightly around his neck. your hips are lifted, your back pressed against the wall as he stays on his knees.

he's been tongue-fucking you for a few minutes now, and you can feel yourself reaching the edge.

“mm, you taste so sweet.” he laps at your clit, sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth before releasing it with a pop. “i could eat this pretty cunt all day long.”

without warning, you cum on his mouth, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure course through you.

he swallows it all, his tongue still working on your sensitive pussy, making you squirm and whimper from the overstimulation.

slowly, he stands up as lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he keeps you pressed against the wall, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he looks at you as you're gasping for air, that cocky grin forming on his lips.

“you want me forreal.”

“are you kidding me? right now?” you can't believe he's saying that after you just came so hard. but maybe it’s because of the orgasm, because instead of getting annoyed, you find yourself laughing a little.

“you came so much so i—” you cut him off with a kiss, your lips crashing onto his as you taste yourself, sucking on his tongue to shut him up.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours.

“what's next, darling?”

───────── the floor ─────────

“t-that tickles,” you giggle when you feel jungkook softly rubbing your waist while his tongue laps at your right nipple.

“my tongue?” he asks, his eyes looking up at you as he moves to kiss your left nipple. you're both sprawled on the floor, his hands moving up and down your body as he hovers over you.

“your hands,” you gasp softly, taking in the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“mmh,” he hums as his hands slide up, grabbing both of your breasts, squeezing them gently. you arch your back slightly when he squeezes them together, and he buries his face between them, licking and nipping at the soft flesh.

“can i suck your dick?” you say quickly, almost before thinking, and it makes jungkook pull back, looking at you in surprise. he clearly wasn’t expecting that.

“you wanna?” he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“why do you look so surprised? never got your dick sucked before?” you joke, a grin forming on your lips as you see the stunned look on his face.

he rolls his eyes at you, his lips curving into a smirk. it's funny because it's usually you who’s rolling your eyes at him.

“just making sure,”

───────── the couch ─────────

“y-you're doing so good, f-fuck,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you choke and drool on his cock. you're on your knees, gripping his thighs while he sits naked on the couch, his cock in your mouth.

his head falls back as he moans, and he bucks his hips up just slightly, pushing deeper into your throat.

he fucking loves this.

“mmfph-” you let out a muffled sound as your eyes start to water. he looks down at you, taking in the sight of you on your knees for him, your lips stretched around his length. reaching out, he wipes away a tear, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your cheek, his touch oddly tender given the situation.

“that's it, darling. you're being such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath but enough for you to hear. “sucking my cock and looking at me like that... you look so fucking pretty.”

you pull back just slightly, taking a quick breath before diving right back in. your head bobs up and down, your tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, taking him as deep as you can. each time you do, he lets out a low groan, his abs tightening.

“oh fuck, i'm close,” he grunts, his grip on your hair loosening and you pull back.

“can i-” he starts to ask, but you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and he curses under his breath.

he strokes himself a few times, his breath hitching, and then he releases, hot ropes of cum spilling onto your tongue. you keep your mouth open, letting him see before swallowing it all, licking him clean until there's nothing left. once you're done, you pull away, giving him a proud smile.

he chuckles, shaking his head slightly, clearly amused by your behavior.

“you're not what i expected,”

───────── bed ─────────

“did you fuck anyone here before?” you ask as you look at jungkook between your legs. your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and your back pressed against the softness of his bed.

“no,” he says simply as he reaches over to grab a condom. “i don't bring girls here.”

“why not?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“because i'm never alone,” he explains, tearing the packet open with ease.

“but we're alone right now,” you point out, watching every one of his movements.

“i was supposed to go out with hoseok and the others, but i was tired, remember? so i stayed in. and honestly, i'm glad i did that.” he rolls the condom onto his length.

you smack his shoulder playfully, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“now, are you really sure about this?” he asks, his hands gently gripping your hips, holding you steady.

“for the tenth time, yes, i am,” you respond, “like i said, it’s a one-time thing,” you remind him.

he gives a small nod, then grabs his cock, rubbing the tip along your wet folds, making you whimper at the feeling.

“just fucking put it in,” you breathe out,

he grins, leaning down just a bit closer. “say please, darling,”

“if you think i’m gonna beg for it, think again,” you say, your eyes narrowing at him.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “so bossy,” he mutters, and then, without further delay, he pushes his cock into you.

“f-fuck..” you bite down on your lower lip, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel him stretching you. the fullness is almost overwhelming, but there's a hint of pleasure there, building slowly.

he pauses for a moment, his gaze searching your face. “you okay, darling?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“y-yeah,” you manage to say, breathing heavily. “it feels... bigger than i expected,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly.

his grin widens at that, and he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm. normally, you'd have some sassy comeback for that look on his face, but right now, it feels too good to say anything at all.

no wonder women love him.

you came once.

“fuck— nngh y-yes!!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming as your body trembles around him.

“oh my go— i am— fuck!” jungkook moans, his head falling back onto the pillow as you ride him, your hips bouncing on his cock.

twice.

“you like that, hm? you like getting your pussy fucked from behind?” his voice is a growl as he grips your ass, pounding into you relentlessly. you’re on all fours, your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. tears well up at the edges of your eyes, the pleasure bordering on too much, but you don’t want him to stop.

make it a third time.

“fuck..”

jungkook groans as he collapses onto the bed, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes closed. exhaustion drips from his voice as he mumbles, “you’re such a freak.”

you sit beside him, still naked, your fingers lightly tracing patterns over his chest. “one more round?” you suggest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “yeah, right.”

you tilt your head, raising a brow at him, your expression almost challenging.

his eyes widen just a bit. “oh, you’re serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

you nod, shrugging slightly. “how are you not tired?” he breathes out, his voice laced with disbelief.

“i can take some more, i guess,” you say casually, though the glint in your eyes betrays your eagerness.

“i am sorry to disappoint, darling, but i think i am done for tonight.” he lets out a tired sigh, and he sees you pout.

“woah,” he murmurs, watching the way your lips form into a cute little pout. it’s endearing. he’s seen so many sides of you tonight—and now... this.

cute and.. whiny?

“pleaseee, jungkook, one more time!!” you whine, your voice soft and pleading, making his heart skip a beat.

he blinks, like he’s just seeing a new part of you, something he never expected. maybe it’s the endorphins, or just the moment—whatever it is, this side of you is cute, almost innocent in your need.

he likes it.

“how about this,” he says, a grin forming on his lips, “we take a shower, and maybe we can go for another round there, hm?”

“shower sex?” you ask.

he nods.

“no, it’s unsafe,” you respond immediately, shaking your head.

he sighs dramatically, his grin widening. “well then, no more sex for tonight,” he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “maybe some other night.”

you roll your eyes, huffing. “you wish”

he chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“i do.”

a/n: i hope it's not too confusing 😣

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[hoseoksluna]

PROMISES | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x f. reader

genre: fwb au / angst, smut

word count: 9.3k

summary: when you needed your social battery recharged by your fuck buddy yoongi, you didn't expect to have your undiscovered feelings for him reciprocated. 

pin: promise / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: strong daddy issues, slight dd/lg, manipulation, tiny rough treatmeant, edging, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), teasing, mixed feelings, oc is confused abt her feelings and the whole situation, fight, yoongi counts down, unprotected sex, pussy spanks, nipple play.

note: this has to be my worst work in the whole hoseoksluna universe. i'm terribly upset, disgusted, unmotivated. i wrote this all week, hated every second, and i'm sorry to say this is my last smut for a while. i'm really struggling mentally, i'm struggling with writing, and i don't know what to do anymore. i'm posting this a day early because i can't stand this fic anymore. i can't stand smut. you're free to skip this one until i get better.

You were a folded swan, drifting upon the smooth, glittering surface of a river that led nowhere—a dead end, bearing the face of a man you’ve been casually seeing for the past few months. A man that clutched adrenaline and tenderness in his fist like a bouquet of the prettiest woodland wildflowers, on top of which perched a note signed in your name. Scratchy Latin letters, doused in ebony ink, they had more life than you did at this moment; poetry-woven experiences that had you feeling life like life should be felt—drastically, enthusiastically and delightfully. Every vowel depicted the closure of each night you spent with him: mouth parted agape, through which the sweetest moans would erupt and saturate him in a certain kind of fatherliness, pride and manliness. 

It’s what you need, laying as you are on the linen sheets of your bed, dressed down to your lacy underwear that you thought would make you feel better, somehow would recharge your dead battery that was stuck on zero percent for longer than you care to admit. Father issues, dissatisfaction at your workplace, at your home life, at life itself. You were tired, your concentration running thin as you were watching your well-loved K-drama that you have seen a hundred times before. Through your vision, your own non-romantic interest would fly by, smiling down at you in your dejected state and form. Your body knows him more thoroughly than your heart, stirring erratically at the memories that would begin to flood your system. Tongue, lips, hands. His cock that he would tease you with, giving it to you and not giving it to you purposefully because he enjoyed the sight of your desperation for someone like him—a person who has seen the worst of life, its characteristics engraved upon his skin, and yet you still yearned for him, yearned for those scars. You didn’t have to tell him, but he knew. 

He knew by the way you would so very often trace the scar upon his shoulder, either with your fingertips or your lips. You were friends, fuck-buddies to be more precise. You were aware that someone entangled in a special friendship such as this shouldn’t do something like that, but you couldn’t help it. Yoongi taught you many times to listen to your body and you were doing just that. 

Following your body’s inclination to sink into his soul that he wasn’t too scared to let you inside of. 

He allowed you to do it to such an extent that the threat of his quick orgasm would appear and he would slip out of you, distract himself between your legs, make you come twice in a row—perhaps as a playful punishment, or perhaps as a reward. 

He saw you—and right now you need to be seen, folded in your forest-scented exhaustion while the river flows on, the trees sway on and everyone else passes by while you remain fixed on the same spot, stooped in your ungratified, seemingly unnamed problem. 

You can text him, ask for a quick fuck, something he’s very well acquainted with, used to at this point—so much that everytime you leave his place stuffed full of his cum, he stuffs you with something else as well. 

A promise for the next time.

A package of something to make you look forward to your tight-knit time spent with him. The last time, he had promised to take you to a running sushi restaurant, where you didn’t linger for long because you got fed up with the way other people would steal the sweet plates you wanted to try. He had fucked you in his car to make you feel better about your innate misanthropy and while he was balls-deep in you and you struggled to catch your breath, he promised you ice cream. With each thrust that squeezed your soul, he described how you’d enjoy each lick, the details of the flavor and how he’d buy you any ice cream you wanted. You hadn’t realized it then, within the stupor of your mind-numbing pleasure, but now as you are recollecting it, you perceive how bothered he was by the way other people ruined your night with him. 

And that rips open the restraints around the butterflies in your stomach. 

You want some ice cream—and more than that, you want to see him. Close your mouth around the adrenaline he’s always so willing to fill your life with. 

You don’t know what he’s doing at seven PM on a Thursday night. You usually meet him on Fridays or during the weekend if he’s working the day before. You’ve never shown him your neediness—and there’s a certain dangerous feel to it, baring yourself naked in this way, despite the fact he’s seen, touched, and licked every inch of you. And it’s hard for your brain to comprehend that you yearn for him when your social, emotional and physical battery is dead. If anything, you should be resting as you are, get right in order to be at your best for the next time you see him. 

But alas… 

With a sigh, you turn to your other side and reach for your phone that you’ve been charging, gliding your hands down the cable, imagining it’s his arm. And with a frustrated furrow of your brows, you tap on the circle above your messages. A pinned picture of him that you took, his face caught in his gummy smile against the dark backdrop of his car interior, filtrated with the twinkling lights of Seoul’s city buildings. Another sigh leaves you, one that exasperates you because why are you so needy for him? Why can’t you be a normal girl, independent, okay with your own company shared with the fictional people that you love? You’ve spent your girlhood like this, and happily so. Why does growing up mean you need the male energy more than your own? 

Biting your lip, your anxiety spikes up, but your desire for Yoongi overwhelms it, wins. And that settles a layer of calmness over it, gives the command to your fingers to type what they need to type. 

hi

what are you doing 

The bubbles don’t emerge from the dark motive of your chat until a few minutes later, the green of his message brightening up your phone—and your life, too. 

About to have a concert. Having a shot right now for your health. 

Oh, shit. A strange concoction of disappointment and a deep, low, murmuring stimulus rises in you. The swan in you elongates her neck, interested, but still dispirited considering her options. She will have to fold back into her form, and continue on her long, somber voyage back from the dead end, dwelling on the thrill of the flirtation of the man that she likes a little bit too much. 

Staring at the thick canvas of trees and shrubbery that aren’t letting you in to see him, you think about what to type, your thumbs hovering in the air. Life dislikes you; life wants you to suffer—

A ringing tone of your phone tugs you away from your distressed thoughts. The Latin letters of Yoongi’s name expand across the screen behind that picturesque and private shot of him, enlarged, stirring your heart. Silence spreads through your mind and your thumb quivers as you slide it across the bar to accept his call, placing the device against your ear. 

It feels as though you’re pressing the side of your head against his, especially so once you hear the warmth of his raspy voice pronouncing your name in his accent, marked by the liquor he drank prior to your messages. 

Enlivened, your body is. Just from that. 

“What’s up with you?” Yoongi asks, and the swan sails a little bit more swiftly, her tucked-in wings fluttering against her feathery body. You play with your necklace, your trembling so, so terribly evident. You’re glad he didn’t video call you, but the phone call is much more intimate and pleasant. 

You huff out a noise of desperation without meaning to and cringe at yourself, crunching up your features. Yoongi calls you by your name with a tiny hint of alarm and you curse yourself, silently. Your misanthropy gets pointed at you. 

“Noth—”

“Should I cancel my concert right now?” he suggests, cutting in, and you can hear the drunken playfulness in his voice, the one you have enjoyed on many occasions. Even acted out on your pleasure from it by making him, physically, feel good about it. You wish you could suck his dick right now, right before his concert, so he gives out his best for his fans. 

The sighs are ceaseless and you don’t bother to stop them at this point, your enlivened body soaking up in a swelling, unmet desire. 

“You’re sighing,” he notes, and you discern a cube of ice clinking in his glass, then a swallow of his throat, as if the indication of your yearning got him going, got him needing that burning liquid. “Are you horny for me?” 

Enlivened, your butterflies are, starting a war just from that sole question: desire versus your mental health. 

And using the vanilla scent of their wings, they remind you of the fact that you’re an adult woman and that you’re allowed, and more than allowed, to do whatever your body asks for. And if it’s asking for Yoongi, you’re going to go the extra mile to get him. 

Brazenly and femininely—and a little bit slyly. 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m really craving that ice cream you promised me,” you say, lowering down your tone, and you play with the lacy lining of your bra. Think you can tease him with it for a good effect. “I’m wearing a nice lacy set right now.” 

Yoongi sucks in a breath and lets it out in a sigh that is entirely redolent of you, making your mouth curve in a soft smile. “What color?” 

Your expression of a muted joy expands as you tell him. “Red.” 

He swears, raspily, and the shade of your lingerie becomes more vibrant in the dimmed yellow light of your bedroom. And there you feel it—a more intense tendril of lust slithering down your sternum, moving your body side to side against your sheets in need. And the whimper that comes out of you is more primal than it is forced. 

At the sound, Yoongi pauses. You imagine him biting his lip, the gears in his brain turning, and he doesn’t disappoint you. He never does. 

“Do you have a dress of the same color?” he asks, small pants escaping his mouth, and you smirk. 

“I do.” 

He chuckles in personal delight. “Wear it for me. The set, too. I want to see it. I will pick you up after the concert and get you that ice cream.”

Your butterflies spring to your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. And you don’t know whether to be glad, to be happy, to jump on your bed or to get ready. All those emotions simultaneously gather in you, spreading sparks of excitement down your nerve endings. And most of all, you want to hug him. 

You want to hug your adrenaline-infused angel. 

“Okay,” you agree, prolonging the vowel, the muscles in your cheeks aching. “How long is the concert?”

His delight leaks out through a deep hum, one that causes you to tense your body in feverish eagerness. “Two hours. Can you wait that long for me without touching yourself?” 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Think you can wait however long for him, just as long as you get to see him. “I can, but my panties will be ruined. Sticky and uncomfortable.” 

The hum is strangled by his strained intake of breath, turning you woozy, your fingers itching to slide beneath your said panties, knowing his noises alone would make you come in seconds. You weren’t wet before he called, but now you can feel the center of the fabric dampening the longer you talk to him. 

“I’ll take them off as soon as I can. I promise. Hold it out for me.” 

And you believe him. You compress that promise into your hand, warming it up with your body heat before you tuck it safely into the chambers of your heart—and you wait. 

You wait for him to fulfill the myriad of his promises. 

You did hold it out for him, and brilliantly so. You watched one episode of your drama with a little bit more vehemence, despite the fact Yoongi swam past your thoughts more times than you can count. You’ve never watched him perform in real life as his own private life was always kept in secrecy from his fans, but your curiosity led you to search him up online and watch a playback of one of his more upbeat songs. Dressed in a long black coat, white shirt and a tie, your mouth was wide open, as well as your eyes, as you took in his ferocious energy, enhanced by his passion, and you never looked at him the same as before. He became someone else, a figure of brutal yet tender power and it made you want him even more zealously. 

The memories of that performance resurfaced in your mind every now and then, and his Agust D persona would melt into the male interest of the show, deepening your desire for him as you dreamed. 

Dreamed of reaching different highs with him. More profound, more devastating. 

A dream that could never come true. A promise that would never flow past his mouth. 

You didn’t let that ruin your night, however. As the second hour wrapped around you and your body lacked the heat it needed, you shut your laptop and stood up to your feet, walking over to your closet. Your fingers found that red dress you had spoken about first before your eyes did, silky and sleek amidst the thick, woolen fabrics of your winter clothes. It was the only nice dress you had, one you haven’t worn before, and you were thrilled you got to wear it for him tonight. 

It fit you like a second skin, hugging your curves just right, fading into the lacy linings of your lingerie. One would have to sharpen their gaze in order to notice it—and you wondered if Yoongi was going to scout it with his eyes first or with his fingers. 

The unknown excited you, so much that your panties gained that stickiness you mentioned in the phone call. And when you sat down to slide your feet into your black strappy heels, the feeling was so intolerable that you cringed—and your brilliancy ended there. 

How were you going to sit against your cold arousal for another hour? 

The awaited text didn’t come through until you were dousing yourself in your vanilla perfume. Yoongi was downstairs, waiting for you in his car. Left my lights on for you, he had typed to reassure you because he knew how anxious it made you, looking for his parked car in the dark when you couldn’t see anything. 

Your heart blossomed two times bigger when you checked it from your window. Yoongi in the passenger seat, scrolling through his phone, the headlights filtering through the mist of the deep of the night. You smoothed a hand down your tummy, calming your butterflies, and, reapplying your lipstick, you grabbed your coat and went outside to meet him. 

He spotted you long before you lifted your head to smile at him and he reached over to the side and opened the door for you. The motor was running, keeping the warmth intact for you, and you sighed in relief when you entered it—only to realize that Yoongi had turned on the seat heater for you. 

You melt into the leather, closing your eyes, the ambience of the present moment nestling upon you like the most delicate layer of snow that dissolves when you feel a swift breath along your neck and it’s Yoongi, lengthening his arm and closing the door while keeping his twinkling gaze on you and giving you a pleased smile. 

The butterflies kick against your stomach. 

“I was going to do that,” you say because you truly were—it’s just that the snug, comforting heat he prepared for you made you want to stop and bask in it as the short walk from your apartment building to his car numbed your bones to such an extent that you needed the time to defrost. And he quickened the process by placing an even warmer hand upon the nylon of your inner thigh that the slit of your dress and your trench coat exposed. “It’s just so cold.” 

He fondles the fabric of your tights on the top of your thigh with his thumb. A gesture of comfort that diffuses life down your legs and colors your cheeks in a shade of pink that irradiates the subdued atmosphere of the car. It’s hard to breathe—and it’s hard to resist him, keep yourself cool and not swing your leg over. 

Fuck the ice cream. You want something way creamier. 

“It’s only right I close it for you after I opened it,” he reassures, the deep tenor of his voice puncturing right through you, looking for your core, and you shift your hips, the discomfort of your wetness not allowing you to relax as much as you need. Yoongi’s eyes flick down to your movement and he parts his mouth as that distinctive smirk of his divulges his enjoyment in seeing you so horny for him. “Are you still sticky for me?” 

It’s now that you take the time to fully look at him. There’s a certain glossiness to his long hair that tells you he went home and took a shower before he got inside his car and drove through the quiet night to meet you. You can smell the rosemary of his shampoo and the usual minty aroma of his body wash, blended with his natural musky pheromones and the wood, the tangerine of his perfume. He’s the synthesis of your internal woodland, the breath of the trees that your swan inhales and a punishment, all in one; and you’re not sure if you can hold out any longer. Both emotionally, both physically.

“Very sticky,” you say, wrapping your hands around his arm, descending your fingers down the bulky, wooly material of his winter jacket like you were touching your charging cord—a temporary dream come true. You enclose your palm around his knuckles, think that if he feels how wet you are, he’ll realize that you sentimentally require more than he normally gives you—that your flesh will somehow tell him and give him the bravery to do so. 

But Yoongi doesn’t move an inch. His fingers remain fixed on the inner of your thigh, digging dents into the skin as you feel the bulging of his bicep the more you push his hand towards your wetly clothed cunt. His smile falls, his eyes droop—and the energy is charged with such unnamed intensity that you let go of your pursuit, slipping your fingers beneath the edge of his sleeve as a sign of your submission. 

That quickly. 

“You promised to hold out for me, didn’t you?” he asks, waiting for your agreement, and you nod, feverish, dripping with perspiration, with this great need that towers over you. “Then, be like Daddy and keep your promise or you’re not getting anything.” 

A shiver cascades down your spine—not merely from his authoritative voice, but from the role he dipped into that immediately puts you into yours. You begin to giggle, palming your mouth as the blush in your cheeks bursts and tears of overwhelmingness add a certain glint to your eyes that sparkles beneath the yellow-tinted car interior lights. And using this fatherliness of his, he interweaves your arousal around his long, piano fingers, announcing he’s its King. 

Your essence trickles out of the confines of your panties. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you whine, still giggling, you can’t help it. Yoongi takes after you, blessing you with that gummy grin of his that you adore so much. Your heart enlarges. 

“What exactly am I doing on purpose?” he challenges, kneading the flesh of your thigh, and he senses his answer right away. Your essence travels to his hand, stopping there, and once again Yoongi’s smile falls, eyes plummeting to it, hand lifting—and fingers gathering that warm slick. 

And it drips onto his own pants-clad thigh when he plunges his fingers into his mouth, shocking you to your core. 

“Yoongi—”

He hums in titillation, interrupting you, and smacks his mouth. For a brief amount of time, he seems to be in his own world as he tastes you on his tongue. And then, he takes those same fingers, turns the key in the ignition, moves forward the shift stick, and without sparing you a glance, he drives out of his usual parking spot and doesn’t hesitate to correct you. 

“Not Yoongi. Daddy.” 

You clamp your mouth shut. Think you need some kind of plug to stop your arousal from flowing down your thigh. Yoongi doesn’t mention what just happened throughout the whole drive, but you do notice his semi-hard manhood poking out of his groin area. You salivate, but don’t tempt him, squeezing your thighs together so tightly that your muscles cramp. 

You’ll save it for later. 

You listen to him talk about his concert experience of tonight while the drum in your clit matches the beat of the songs of his playlist. He speeds down the road, keeping his hands on the steering wheel and the shift stick, and he doesn’t look at you until he halts the car at the first red light. 

He smiles at you, knowingly. A dirty, dirty smile that turns your world upside down, vexes you deeply—enough for you to swivel your head in the other direction to ignore him because if you looked at him any longer like that, you’d be unbuckling his pants. But Yoongi does what he pleases. With his index finger, he whips your chin back to him, leans over and grins before he presses his lips against yours. 

A gentle, gentle kiss. One that does not mirror his demeanor. 

Your walls flutter, your whole body, too. Shock seizes you in its grasp at that gesture of affection and you can’t breathe—he’s stolen all of the oxygen in your lungs. The trees sway and bend, the swan in you dances quite buoyantly, despite the fact that a storm is coming. 

A storm of your emotions. 

He’s never kissed you like that—out of the blue, at the red light. He kisses you when he’s drunk, handsy and touchy-feely as he everlastingly is, but he doesn’t kiss you just like that when he’s sober. 

“You doing good?” he murmurs against your lips, ripping away the fingers of your shock, and it feels as though you’re waking up from a dream—only to glide, boundlessly, into another one. Yoongi waggles with your chin before he pulls away, the yellow light bathing him in its shade momentarily before the green blinks and he jumps back into his own world. 

Does he really think you won’t erupt in this storm? Disintegrate into smithereens and wipe everything clean that he is? 

“What was that for?” you ask, softly, your lips numb and aching for more of his tenderness, one that you would, in all honesty, die for. You trace the print of his own lips on yours, feel its heavy warmth, and you might as well be drunk just from that. 

You need a shot. And not just one. 

Yoongi bites his bottom lip. “You’re holding out so well. I thought you deserved it.” 

You roll your eyes back—not from raw annoyance, but from the pristine pleasure you receive from the dominant, fatherly energy of his words. Suddenly, you don’t know what to do with your hands, what to say, what to think. What you do know is that you surely will be crying into his pillow by the time this night is over and he’s fast asleep. 

But you can’t cry much. Can’t wake up with puffy eyes. Can’t reveal to him the gravity of your feelings. 

You don’t even remember the moment you realized you loved him. Think you loved him the first time you laid your eyes on him, but you buried it deeply in you—so deeply that you didn’t even recollect your feelings when Yoongi told you, straight away, that this was just a friends with benefits kind of arrangement. Truth be told, this business is the sole kind of relationship you can give him as you hate men. Always hated them. But you don’t hate him. 

He’s not them. He’s different. 

You may have wanted adrenaline and joy tonight, but as you dwell in this state of mind of yours, you slouch deeper into the leather and come to a heartbreaking understanding that you’ll never be happy in this life. 

The night-clothed streets pass by you in soft shapes in colors, disappearing instantly out of your view. And the woodland, the trees and the swan, they disappear, too. Shrouded by the fog of your abysmal sadness. 

***

Yoongi took you to such a small hotel that its luxuriousness pierced your eyes with its glorious light. You thought you were dining and ending the night at his place, but once Yoongi ordered your favorite shots of sweet rum with cocktail cherries, you perceived you were staying here. Perceived he was unknowingly giving you the opportunity to drown your feelings in alcohol as well. 

You almost didn’t wait for him to take his own shot before you downed yours, but hearing the click of his tongue, you stopped midway. And to make sure you did wait, he placed his palm upon your wrist, bringing your arm down onto the table as he ordered your dessert. 

Chocolate ice cream, just for her. Thank you. 

He made everything worse. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to be so good for him, listening to every order of his that came to his mind. Why you wanted that validation, that praise. You could just do whatever you desired—it wouldn’t scratch your relationship with him. You could be bad and he wouldn’t mind. Hell, you think he would even enjoy it. But why is it your inert yearning to please him so much? It’s devastating—and it’s your personal ruination. Because the more you do things that caress his ego, the deeper the abyss of your feelings for him goes. 

You shouldn’t. Not in the construct of your friendly relations. For the sake of your well-being.

You pry his fingers away and take that shot, watching his eyes grow large in their surprise. You never slide the cherry along with the liquor into your mouth, so once you swallow it, you open it wider and begin to chew it. His brows twitch, his own mouth parting at the sight and he leans back into his chair, completely submitted and enthralled by your act of defiance. 

And it feels good, going against him like that. Living your life by your own decided rules, and not his. 

You don’t hesitate to gulp down the other shot, but it’s not the slight burning of the liquid that gives you the buzz. It’s the way he seems to be completely pleased by your self-will, smiling lazily at you with his head tilted to the side. It propels you to steal his shot, too, and the brief facade of his pleasure collapses. A dark tendril of concern lines his eyes and those brows that twitched furrow, casting a dusky shadow over those slits. 

Now he’s aware of it, the tornado that spins within you. But he doesn’t know the cause of it, the decadent poetry verses that cover it. 

And he’ll never know—he’ll never read them. Because you’d much rather keep it in secrecy than risk losing him for all eternity. Feelings can be hidden, feelings can wander off, lose their bearings until they no longer remember that your body used to be their home. But Yoongi… he’s a person that you meet once in a lifetime. And losing him would mean that you lost not just your life, but the blood pumping in your veins as well.

It’s wrong, being attached like that to someone, regard him this way. And you’re cognizant of the fact it’s temporary—and for that sole reason, you bask in it. Because your life would be prosaic, and not poetic, if you didn’t. 

That is the motto you carry in your pathetic, but strong heart. 

And the darkness of his concern, it intoxicates you more than the last shot you take. 

The backdrop of dining and chattering people sway, just like your past trees, behind him. Manifestations of foreign lives you’ll never witness twice in your life, that are a part of you today and will part from you tomorrow. Yoongi, in the middle, remains stable. A beacon of light, unmoving, a great pillar of fixedness and steadiness. He peers at you through the thickness of his eyelashes, his aura solemn, no longer playful. Your sighs emit out of you in a constant stream while your eyes roam at everything in motion but him and he seems to strongly, strongly dislike that. 

“What’s up with you?” he asks for the second time around this evening, but the question has a loftier ring of seriousness to it. It passes through you, puncturing you until it pokes out of your back and transforms into a pair of monumental wings. Ones, upon which your feelings are mockingly hung, for his eyes to see, but not to recognize.

And the swaying of your body brings forth wetness to your eyes, for it is an anamnesis of the inner world you lost due to the comprehension of your feelings. 

“Nothing,” you say for the second time around, too. A hefty blanket of silence is thrown across the table, scattered with empty shot glasses that were meant to be shared between the pair of you. Unable to look at him, your eyes drop to them, count them—one, two, three, four—and then your irises wind up at his clenched fist. At the white valleys of his knuckles that are composed only when his fingers are wrapped around a microphone. And the blanket of the silence is warmer than the warmth he has given you—a sweltering layer of heartsickness that you can’t bear. With your drunk brain, you think you should pierce it, as if with a needle, with a response to a question he didn’t ask you. “I haven’t eaten much today, that’s why I’ve gotten drunk so quickly.” 

Yoongi runs a tongue down the inner flesh of his cheek. Ponders the information you have given him before he scolds you. “You didn’t eat and you drank four shots in a row. You won’t tell me what it is, fair enough, but I know you’re hiding it behind the pretense of you being horny.” 

His head swivels to the side, sensing a presence. And he watches as the waitress puts down an ornamental plate of two scoops of chocolate ice cream in front of you. You don’t pay her a second of your time. You set your eyes on Yoongi, on the darkness of his energy that you are ever so slowly and magnetically pulled to. 

Yes, he sees the problem, but doesn’t recognize it. He sees the shape of your wings, but he can’t recognize their color. 

The solidness of his call-out quivers. You’re not sure if you’re hiding it; you’re no longer sure about anything at this moment, but you don’t care. You have to stick to your secrecy, you have to keep your feelings safe and tucked away, no matter how far on the edge of the cliff they are. 

“I’m not hiding anything. I was horny,” you retort, not caring that the waitress is still present, picking up your shot glasses. Yoongi gives you a look while you tip your chin down and gaze at him through your long lashes—just like he did. A taste of his own sweet poison. And then you lift your foot and rest it between his outstretched legs, the sole of your stilettos pressing lightly against his soft groin. 

This is fun. This is the adrenaline you were seeking. Who would’ve thought you would be your own provider of that. 

Surprised by the abruptness of your act, he doesn’t let it show on his face, but his hands drift upwards from his thighs before he settles them around the bridge of your foot. He waits for the waitress to finish her job and, sensing the pressure, she scurries away without asking if you wanted to order another round. 

And in her absence, Yoongi begins to touch you. 

He sails his fingernails from your toes up to the thin strap of your shoe, wrapping them around your ankle. He squeezes your limb once, warning you about something you don’t know, his eyes tiny, tiny slits. Perhaps if you keep up with this, the night won’t end so prettily like it normally does. 

But you don’t believe it. You refuse to. And to be frank, you can’t. 

You shall have your fun. 

“Eat your ice cream before it melts,” he orders like the father he is, pointing at the dessert with his irises. 

You look at it, at the bits of the chocolate bars jutting out of it, then back up at him. “Feed it to me.” 

The slits break, his eyes enlarging. His reaction spreads all across his face—brows curling upwards, mouth parting, his thumb absentmindedly swiping across the skin of your shin, exposing how much he liked your request. Such an intimate place for that to happen. 

Then, he examines his surroundings. Then, he gets up from his chair and sits next to you on the booth, taking a hold of the spoon and your leg simultaneously, hooking it over his thigh. Scoops the ice cream and turns to you, his arm suspended in the air. 

“Open,” he rasps, and your eyes wet first before your mouth complies, opening wide for him. Yoongi slides the spoon into your mouth with expert gentleness, careful not to hurt you, and your first tear of the night cascades down your cheek when your mouth closes around the silver, your tastebuds cheering due to the chocolate flavor that overwhelms them. 

Yoongi, the man that could never disappoint you. Yoongi, the man who has given you more fatherly love than your own father ever did. 

How could you not love him? How could you not want more from the casualness of your relationship with him when he treats you like this? When he prepares a warm faith in men within your chest, a wet soil—out of which the tenderest sprout of joy shall grow? 

The second tear cascades down. The ice cream melts on your tongue. You swallow. 

Yoongi sighs, dropping his hands, the corners of his eyes rounding in an emotion you’ve never seen upon him. “You have to tell me what’s going on.” 

Your wings, swan-like, flutter behind you, ruffling the hair on the crown on his head. “The ice cream tastes good.” 

You brush away your tears, lamenting your foolish mistake, and fold your hands on your lap. Give him a teary smile that you can’t hide and open your mouth for him again. Yoongi doesn’t say anything as he continues to feed you and frown at you, not until another waitress comes and asks if you wish to order another round. His anger is evident in his voice as he turns her down, stating you won’t be drinking any more than you have. 

And again, he makes everything worse when he wipes your mouth clean after you finish the dessert. Pats your head to reward you. 

You hold your tears, watch him pay for you, give him your hand when he leads you towards the elevator up to the room where you’ll be staying tonight. 

Him, completely sober; you, drunk out of your mind. 

He doesn’t let go of your hand, even as you and him stand side by side, the silence as thick as death. You can’t stand it, can’t do anything else but to break it all over again. Though this time, you don’t do it with words. 

You do it with your actions. 

Stumbling on your feet like a freshly-born fawn, it’s only then that Yoongi looks at you. Holds you steady as you move in front of him to face him. He doesn’t swim along the current of all these brown shades of the elevator, but you can see a deep emotion waving through his ice-cold eyes that heat up, melt and droop when you envelop your arms around his neck and press your face against the side plane of his, kissing him there a hundred, a thousand times. You sink your fingers into the hair at the nape, tracing circles along his scalp and Yoongi shudders, breathes evenly against you, and it reminds you of the wind that swept past your woodland—the one that made your trees sway. 

All of that is gone because of your mistake. 

And something tells you that nothing will ever be the same. That something groundbreaking awaits you once these elevator doors open. 

And they open too quickly. 

Breaks your wordless actions that speak your gratitude for his fatherly behavior by gathering you into his arms, carrying you out of the elevator. Doesn’t let your aching feet touch the ground until the snugness of the tiny room welcomes you in. A queen-sized bed, a mirror across the wall that faces it, a round table by the balcony. It would be stifling if you were here alone, but Yoongi, somehow with his domineering energy, enlarges the room—makes it his. 

He empties out his pockets. Phone, wallet, keys. A white lighter and a pack of cigarettes. His jacket follows next, hooking it around one of the chairs, and once he notices your wavering feet, he sits down at the edge of the bed and sheds your trench coat, throwing it over his own jacket. Bends at the waist and takes off your heels, one by one. Only then, when you’re comfortable, does he set you down in the center of his lap. And you realize that the mirror is right in front of you. 

You watch him through it. Watch his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck; watch your own form disappear into the buffiness of his body as his hands begin to roam. His watch glints in the dim light of the room and his own being coalesces, becomes one with the murkiness. 

You want to do that, too. Forget who you are. Forget what you’re feeling. 

Tears prick at your waterline and you let out a pained sigh. Another foolish mistake of the night, one you’re about to pay for. 

“Talk to me,” he begs, a wisp of a tiny whiny weaving into his voice inconspicuously, but you catch it—and it vibrates through you, weakening you. It makes it so much harder for you, his unyielding need to know what’s troubling you, but how can you tell him? How can you risk never seeing him again? 

You remain silent, painfully so. 

Yoongi lifts his head from your neck and stares you dead in the eye through the mirror, chilling you down to the bone. 

“You truly think I’m just a guy you fuck?” he spits, his anger on full, unabashed blast that you should’ve seen coming with your restrained behavior, but it’s better to take his anger than to take his absence—and you shall devour that emotion of his. His question causes a hiccup to ensue in your chest, the secrecy of your feelings leaning over the edge of the cliff. Dangerously, dangerously close. “That you can’t confide in me? You think I’m just gonna fuck you and pretend I didn’t see you cry?” Your eyes dart away, a heavy load of agony settling over your heart, but Yoongi prevents you from looking away. Makes you look at him by grabbing your chin and keeping your head still, facing the mirror. “Is that what you want? You want me to be this kind of asshole?” 

You bite your lip, not knowing what to say, not knowing who you want him to be, not wanting to be in this situation at all. But Yoongi can’t stand your silence. Can’t stand the privacy of your trouble, as if he inertly knows that it has something to do with him. 

He softens his touch, but he doesn’t do the same with his voice. 

“Answer me.” 

You cry out in unnamed desperation, which propels Yoongi to lift your head up to him, so you can look at him—so you can see how much this matters to him. The emotion in his eyes vivaciously thumps, urging you to speak to him. He holds you to him like this, gripping your cheeks with the littlest amount of pressure, sucking in small breaths and you can’t. You’re going to explode if he keeps at it, and you’re going to die.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, tiny cries emitting out of your throat, and it’s almost a cry for help. You bunch up his T-shirt in your trembling fist, seizing the solidness of him like your fear seizes you, and you don’t know whether to run or stay put on his lap like this. You’re appalled about where this is going and you’re certain that the same dead end is impatiently seeking you—

Yoongi shushes you. Averts his hand and caresses your hair down. Kisses your forehead, where he lingers a few long seconds that subdue the expression of your storm. Waits until your breathing evens out, so he can unravel the words swelling in him. 

“Even if you asked me, I couldn’t be this kind of asshole to you,” he reveals against that plane of your face, punctuating his sentence by pressing his nose against yours. And you can’t believe his actions, you can’t believe the kind of affection he’s bathing you in; it lessens your fear, slashing it apart until there’s nothing left of it. “Something is hurting your heart and that bothers me. And what pisses me off most of all is that you think I can’t help you.” 

You sniffle and slide your hand upwards to his neck. Try to memorize every inch of this paintwork that your life is graced with as tomorrow won’t have the same paints, the same brushstrokes—

“I’m not gonna fuck you. If you want to be touched, I’ll touch you, but don’t think for a second you’re coming tonight, not if you won’t talk to me,” he murmurs and you gasp, lowly, your wings slumping limply.

The promise of him fucking you was your only salvation for tonight. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, your mouth falling agape, unbelief clutching you at the intensity of his stubbornness. 

And you want to know the meaning behind it. 

“Why?” 

He scoffs, kissing your cheek as if you were a baby he’s cradling, and you can’t take it anymore. You untangle yourself from his grasp and stand up to your feet, your back against the mirror. Yoongi peers at you disapprovingly and then he shakes his index finger at you. Your legs mimic the same movement, trembling, weakening at that. 

“You need to be taught a lesson,” he says and flattens his lips, pauses before he opens his mouth again, but you stop him, despite how much you like it. 

“No, Yoongi. Why are you treating me like this?” 

He props his knuckles against his thighs. A powerful, powerful stance. Curls his lips around his teeth. “Like what?” 

You reflect him. “Like I’m something more.” 

Yoongi chuckles, humorlessly, at that. You spewed it out so rapidly that you don’t realize what you said until he lets out that noise that returns the drum to your sensitive parts. And briefly, as if you uttered something stupid, you grow smaller and smaller—until his following words change your life once and for all. 

“Because you are and because you always have been,” he rasps, the corners of his mouth downturning for a split second, exposing his own secrecy that brings you to your knees. They scruff against the white carpet, stained by time, and Yoongi’s eyes flash with light to see you in this position. 

Your heart hammers with more life than it ever had, with a kind of adrenaline it never felt before, and wetness clouds your vision, misting this situation in a cloud of disbelief. Your lungs fail you, shuddering underneath his hard gaze, and they swell greatly when Yoongi clasps your face in his hand, the one that pointed at you so fatherly, so devastatingly. 

“You’re not just a girl I fuck and I know I’m not a guy you fuck. What we have is irreplaceable, what we do has always been something more, beyond the label we gave it and I regret it,” he lets out, a pained sigh—just like yours—wafting over your features, and Yoongi leans over, propping his elbows on his knees, his other hand joining your face, fingers gripping your hair on each side. “I should’ve treated you more properly, with respect. Take you out on dates. Get to know you. Wait before you let me touch you… because that is what you deserve. You’re not a girl to mess around with. You have a dignity that needs to be taken seriously, that needs to be respected and I wish I had done that. I wish…” he trails off, clicking his tongue in ultimate regret, and you break. You break, break, break. Sob in his hands that hold you so steadily, that give you life, adrenaline and a new meaning to your whole being. Suffocate under his watch, the earth-shattering notion that this has changed the course of your trajectory of your relationship with him forever constricting your throat. “I wish I had allowed myself to court you like you deserve. I wish I had been better mentally, but I’ll make everything right if you want me to. If you want me as much as I want you, I’ll make it right. I’ll try my hardest.”

Your own words, your heartstrings tangle up in a complex manner. Your tongue twists, your speech held back, and you have no control over what comes out of your throat. You’re crawling through a limbo that has no end and each movement you make, the way back gets erased. You need to keep going before it swallows you, but you need him to lead you. You need him inside your skin, inside your heat, inside your mouth. You need to be connected to him in a way you’ve never been connected to him before. You need his breath in your lungs—and your attachment to him bursts in flames. 

Sated, elated, magnificent. 

“Fuck me and make me yours, Yoongi.” 

He sucks in a breath as if he didn’t expect you to accept his favor. The light in his eyes soaks his irises in wetness and his mouth trembles in a tender emotion before he smashes it against yours. And within that lip lock, the swan in you is reborn. 

A baby swan, learning how to sail upon this new, new river—needing her father more than ever before. 

The kiss is hard and the kiss is catastrophic. Yoongi moves his mouth against yours, sucking every bit of your old life out of you to fill you up with newness. Lifts you up and sits you back on his lap. But the kiss is too brief and you soon perceive that his anger hasn’t been shunned out. 

Wet and blue flames lick over his black pools. 

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you. What I said still applies.” 

The zipper slides down, the straps follow suit—and your silk is ripped away from your body that Yoongi turns over and moves to his preferable position, cradling you sideways like a child. And there—as he gives you a once over, studying the red lace of your lingerie, the swell of your breasts, the little valley of fat upon your tummy, the ruination of your panties and the stickiness of your thighs—there you realize that he’s as punishing you as much as he manipulating you into telling him. 

And it’s as arousing as it is bad. 

His free hand begins to roam while the other one holds you close, wrapped around your back, preventing you from running away. It ghosts over your breasts, causing your spine to arch into his palm and his throat to emit a delicious groan that drenches your panties. His fiery hand ventures down, his tongue gracing you with little praises of how beautiful you are, and when he reaches the V-line of your private parts, he discovers how much his deep voice and his touches affect you. 

He lifts his fingers and catches them glistening in the orange light. And this time, he doesn’t plunge them into his mouth. No, he sinks them inside your own. You swirl your tongue around them, coaxing that throaty noise of his that makes your hips buck up. Your tangy sweetness stupefies you and your so-loved woodland is remolded by that intimate act. By your connected gaze that could start a foreign war and bring the world down. 

“Suck on them,” he orders, and you comply. Hollow out your cheeks, make sucking noises as you find everything you ever searched for in his eyes. Stability, warmth, a father. Switch, cutely, between sucking them and dancing your tongue around them. His index and pinky fit just right between the elongated clefts of your cheeks and he coos, grows hard underneath you, kisses the tip of your nose, onto which he whispers: “Such a good little girl.” 

You moan and he reacts so trenchantly fast, withdrawing his fingers and using them to slide your panties to the side, placing them on your clit and not moving. 

“So swollen,” he comments, kissing you for a beat of time without closing his eyes, without missing this moment. “I like it when you’re like this. Swollen, dripping and so horny for me. Like I’ve never taken care of you before.” He glides his fingers down, past your lips to your hole before going back up, rooting on your throbbing clit before starting over. He etches desperation into your veins, stirs your butterflies to madness, and you breathe heavily. “No one will ever see you like this. No one, you hear me?” 

Your nod is automatic, thoughtless, and he’s pleased to the core. Enough that he begins to massage circles on your clit, your wings fluttering, no longer limp, but full of zest. And he can sense it—and it touches him so much that he deepens the pressure while the circles remain agonizingly slow. Your body writhes. Yoongi smirks down at you, grins fully when you clutch the nape of his neck and make little noises into his T-shirt. And just as soon your vision begins to blur and you reach the cusp of your orgasm, he stops.

“What’s hurting you?” 

He reciprocates your feelings, so you have no reason not to tell him. It’s more of a problem with your speech. You’re so fucked out that you can’t speak. 

Yoongi waits for a few seconds before he spanks your pussy. Maneuvers you so you can look at yourself in the mirror, your back against his chest, and he collects your arousal while he pins back your thigh, drifting all four of his fingers along your femininity, stimulating you and punishing you at the same time. Then, he lets you see your slick trickling out of his digits. 

“Look how wet you are, don’t you want to come?”

He’s a dark figure behind you while you are a small creature, spread wide, drooling, dressed in a sinful shade of red that doesn’t indicate her purity, whose smeared red mouth leaks loud, whiny whimpers when he sticks one of those fingers inside your heat, adding another one right away once you accommodate around him. He fucks you with a force that reverberates throughout your whole body and his name that pours out of your mouth like a prayer is a cry for help all over again. He pumps his fingers and pulls away, edging you in such a sinister way that drives out your tears. 

He worsens your condition—like he invariably does. But the rapidness of his pace, it unlocks your mouth, it untwists your tongue, and you begin to babble. 

Incoherent words, nonsense noises; sounds that blossom in volume when he withdraws ultimately, pushes the lace of your bra away from your breasts and kneads them with wet fingers. 

And you erupt, at last, when he flicks your nipples. You flood his pants-clothed thighs and knees, your slick streaming all the way to the carpet. And the river continues on with his words.

“I know you want this cock. I know you want it deep in you. But you’re not getting it if you don’t tell me right now what it is you’re using me to forget about,” he whispers into your ear, tweaking your nubs, his hands descending down your body and pinching your clit. You cry out, the aftershocks of pleasure dizzying you, his manipulation technique in full effect, and you’ll give it to him. Because of his cock, because of his affection. “You have three seconds. One, two, three—”

“I love you,” you confess, screaming it out of your lungs, and his eyes enlarging and his mouth parting in shock is all you see before you’re thrown on the bed.

Before your panties are ripped in half and flung behind him. 

Before your pussy is eaten and fingered in a way that makes you come in four heartbeats. 

Yoongi’s skilled tongue flicks your clit, his fingers curl in that special spot that bespeckles your vision with the stars of the night sky beyond the hotel room window. And you don’t latch onto the fact you’ve drenched him with your juices until he straddles your thigh, arches over you and kisses you with love-drunkenness, his fingers sliding back inside. 

And he doesn’t start fucking you until he confesses something, too. 

“I love you, too.” 

His digits drill you, his eyes pierce your soul and your orgasms are countless like this, not bound to time, not bound to anything at all. You squirt on him, bathe him in the newness of your relationship, cleansing off the old. And then he’s inside of you, murmuring reassuring words against your mouth about how that shouldn’t be troubling your heart. And you cry, you sob, you scream, overtaken by it all, your mouth numb by his constant hard kisses and if you ever belonged to him in the past—you didn’t. Because at this moment, as he stuffs you full of his cum, you’re interwoven into his DNA for all eternity. 

One that he nurtures as he holds you in his arms and asks you about how long you’ve loved him. And he in return tells you that he loved you the moment you first had a taste of what he could give you—laughter, guidance, and orgasms. All from the first date. 

And when you kiss him for the last time before sleep steals you away, you know that you’ll never lack adrenaline in your life ever again. As long as you’re with him, you’ll be on the receiving end. And his unchanging promises will make you look forward to each day, your batteries charged and green—like your blooming woodland.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: tkslovechild , @jjk7k , @parkinglot-nights , @bethvar , @Sexytholland , @yoongibaybee , @crystaleah ,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan , @euphoricmyth , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk .

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[clawsdevour]

࣪˖ ִ˚༄ gojo bf hcs

content warning: fluff, slight smut, cream pie mentioned, praise/degrade mentioned, my shitty writing, not proofread

ಇ.˚₊

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to randomly spawn outside your house whenever he's finished with his duties. Doesn't matter what time it is, he just wants to see you before he leaves for his next shift. He'd also probably text you so much while he's out to let you know what he's up to.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to love holding hands and showing his love for you physically. When you're holding hands, he's definitely the one who's gonna end up swinging you away from happiness. He'd love to just give you simple pecks out of nowhere as well.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to always have a hand on you, by your waist or around your shoulders. He'd love to land a smack on your ass whenever you bend over to reach for something. He simply enjoys having your touch on the tips of his fingers.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to love going shopping with you. He'd always offer to hold your bags while you looked around and shop. Gojo would pick out something he'd like and tell you try it on for him. He loves waiting outside the dressing room to see you open the curtains in the outfits he picks for you.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to call you all the damn time. He's always so deprived to hear your voice ring in your ears. He could be mid-fighting and whip out his little cell phone to dial your number. Whenever he does this he's for sure talking about how he's about to finish this curse off and it cuts to sounds of the curse getting abolished while Gojo snickers in the back.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to definitely wow your parents upon meeting him with his eccentric appearance and earth-shattering aura that floods your house. They'd treat them like the special sorcerer he is until he unleashes his silly nature. Gojo absolutely loves your parents and they love him as well.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to have different sides to him when it comes to you cunt. It depends on the mood, atmosphere, lighting, and even where you're getting pounded. He'd have his needy moments where he lets you take control and moments where he's dominating you. Either way, his end goal is to make you feel absolute pleasure whenever his dick is inside you.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to absolutely tease the hell out of you when you got his mask on your face to surprise you with his touch. He'd edge you so much that he won't let you finish unless you obey all his words. He'd love to degrade you but also praise you while you're at it, saying things like how bad you are for him and how good you take his long slender fingers that curl into your sweet spot.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to have his dick fill you up so good you can't even mumble out words but moans. He'd kiss your cervix multiple times, making your spine shiver every time as euphoria washes over you. Gojo's mercilessly thrusting into you, making you lose your mind as always. When he climaxes he's filling your wet cunt to the brim with his milky white essence that seeps out.

-Gojo, the type of boyfriend to hold you close to him so tight after cleaning you up, never letting you go from his deadly grasp. Whenever you try to scooch off of him his needy raspy voice would always whine out 'where are you going?' His sleepy blue orbs would stare down at you while he's planting soft kisses on your head to tempt you to stay with him.

masterlist here

[julietsbody]

thinking of luke finding his best friend high at one of those parties they secretly hold at camp… 

semi inspired by murdrdocs’ blurb abt smoking w luke & princessbrunette’s blurb abt jj finding his innocent friend high!!

typically luke never came to these, he was never really a party person, just until you’re texting him some sloppy words that barely make any sense— so now he’s weaving his way through the mess of trees towards the booming music in the distance. did they know how to not get caught? 

luke’s nose scrunches as soon as he gets close enough to make out where you might be in that bright pink skirt he always saw you in, his steps move faster, especially since you’re talking to some asshole from the hades cabin. his jaw shifts as soon as he plants his hands on your shoulders, pupils cinched as he glares at the man you’re speaking with. 

“oh, hey, luke!” you smile so sweet, a little too sweet, in fact, you smell.. he blinks once, then again, then again. to be honest, you don’t really remember texting luke, and it’s always a pleasant surprise to see him appear out of nowhere.

“hey, uh, lets go, yeah?” his hands are gentle when they move you to take a step or two back from the brooding man who clearly looks disappointed, if not a little agitated, with luke’s arrival. 

“but ‘m having fun, do you want to meet my friend? this is my friend—“ 

“yeah, yeah,” luke stares at the man for a second, “hey, dude, ‘kay, time to go.” 

“seems like she doesn’t want to,” the man suddenly speaks, and it should be a blessing from hades himself that luke doesn’t have his sword strapped to his belt. 

“seems like she does since she texted me,” his tone is firmer, a certain bitterness and bite to it, “should be lucky ‘m too busy to rip that smartass smirk off your face.” 

the last sentence comes out as a mumble as he gently guides you away from the party, having to take more of a precaution than usual since you’re stumbling an awful lot. god, how much did you smoke. 

“why’d you say that to him—“ 

“mmm, no reason— hey.. jus’ asking but, you didn’t get that weed from one of the guys there, right?” you seemed much more than just high, unless you smoked like, five blunts— gods, did you? 

“no, nono, got it from um.. lucy, she said it was reaaaalllyyyy strong but like— i only smoked a little,” he hums along to your non - stop giggles, failing to keep his hands from your shoulders since every time he lets go you nearly walk into a tree. 

“yeah, yup, jus’ a little, you know, uh.. you could always just ask to smoke with me,” he shrugs like it’s simple. 

“wooow, you smoke..?” you ask very slowly all of a sudden. 

“what, you think ‘m not cool enough to?” he tuts, steering you to the hermes cabin, which is of course, empty as it always is. you were sure the hermes kids were all dead by now since every time you’re in the cabin it’s vacant, well, besides chris, but he’s always glaring at luke and leaving to bother clarisse. 

“not what i said—“ you frown up at him, and he just nods, moving to sit you down on his bed as he inspects your face to make sure you’re solely high on weed— you really do reek of it, gosh, maybe he should spray his cologne on you. he doesn’t get more time to think before you’re pawing at him, “miss you, luke, talk to me.” 

he chuckles at the hazy glint in your eyes, “c’mon, princess, ‘m not the man for that job.” 

you hook a finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, tugging him in closer, “what do you mean?” 

“‘m your friend,” it comes out hushed, breathy, “jus’ here to take care of you.” 

“so take care of me,” your eyes catch on to the bulge forming in his pants, a lazy smile curving your lips upwards. 

he pauses for a second, considering, before unhooking your hand from his pants and moving you to lay down on his bed, “time to get some beauty sleep, yeah? g’na get me in trouble if you keep acting out, princess.” 

[chewnotchoke]

boynextdoor when they miss you but you're mad at them

why do i always think of such drabbles when i'm about to sleep? anyway,,,enjoy!

sungho

𓍯 he would give you space but he makes sure he checks on you if you haven't skipped your meals.

𓍯 you don't reply at all when he asks if you've eaten lunch, so the moment you answer with "i did" during dinnertime was the sign that he could talk to you again

𓍯 when he misses you, he's vocal about it but he limits it so you wouldn't feel overwhelmed

riwoo

𓍯 he waits for you to text him back but he doesn't try to start a conversation. perhaps, he's waiting for you when you're ready

𓍯 he would go out to distract himself because he doesn't want to get fed up by anxiety so he puts his phone on do not disturb. but he couldn't help but constantly check his notifications, waiting for your name to appear

𓍯 would type "i miss you" but hesitates to send them and would eventually erase what he typed

jaehyun

𓍯 he has anxious attachment so it really bothers him when you don't reply for several hours. he would send "i'm sorry...i miss you. can we talk this out please?"

𓍯 also sends "babe :(" messages. he understands it when you need space but he's really anxious about it. and he hates arguments, but he knows it's his fault this time so he's trying to make it through

taesan

𓍯 "i understand you're mad and i can give you space. but in case you need me, just text or call me up and i'll be here, okay? i miss you."

𓍯 would text his friends to go out to cope because he thinks he's gonna go insane if he doesn't step out of the house while waiting for you to reply

𓍯 at the end of the day when you're still not replying, he'd come over to your apartment with food in hand and a stem of flower. "i can't take it anymore. i miss you."

leehan

𓍯 has the most emotional intellegence out of all them, when you need space, he gives you space. but before that, you have to talk it out with him because he wants to understand your feelings well

𓍯 after that talk, he'd roll on his bed because he misses you so much but he has to wait before he talks to you again.

𓍯 takes the reason why you're upset to his heart and he would murmur "leehan stupid" everytime he remembers

woonhak

𓍯 seeks advices from his friends on what to do so he can better understand you

𓍯 same as leehan but instead of mumbling words, he groans from frustration to himself out of nowhere "agh! woonhak what's wrong with you?!" he talks in third-person.

𓍯 he calls you right away when you feel a little better and he does the rest of cheering you up on call ^__^

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin

# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗

🌿┊ASTARION

Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.

Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.

He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.

He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.

Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.

Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.

The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.

He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.

🌿┊GALE

So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.

Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.

Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.

Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.

He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.

Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.

🌿┊WYLL

If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.

The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.

Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.

Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.

Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.

Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.

You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.

🌿┊HALSIN

Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.

Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.

Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.

Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.

Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.

I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.

Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.

[f1boistrash]

nowhere else i'd rather be | l.s

a/n: here is more of logan x verstappen!reader. i've also got another part in the works which i'm excited to start

summary: you comfort logan after the news broke that he wouldn't be racing in the australian grand prix

<- previous part

You were in the Red Bull garage when the news was announced. You had heard the rumors after Alex's crash in free practice one but you didn't think they would actually do it or at least you hoped they wouldn't. Williams had given Alex Logan's car for the rest of the weekend and you were angry.

You quietly left before anyone noticed, making your way to Logan's room for the weekend. No one batted an eye, too focused on getting the car ready for free practice two so you were able to sneak in. You found his room easily, the layout similar to Red Bulls garage, and knocked on the door. You heard some movement inside but no one came to open the door.

"Logan? It's me, Y/N." You tried again. You didn't want to just barge in but you also wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay. Well as okay as anyone can be in this situation.

"The doors open." You heard him mumble and you quickly slipped inside.

The sight before you broke your heart. Logan was sat on his couch, his head in his hands. He looked defeated. You sat down next to him, immediately wrapping your arms around him. It was like a dam broke inside as tears started falling. You held him tightly, your way of letting him know you weren't going anywhere. It took everything for you to not go in James' office and give him a piece of your mind for treating Logan like this.

It was a few minutes before Logan sat up, moving out of your arms. He brushed his hand over his face as if he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, too embarrassed to look at you.

"You don't need to apologize, Logan. What they did was shit. You have every right to be upset." You told him, placing your hand over his. "I don't ever wanna hear you apologize for your feelings, okay?"

"Thanks, Y/N." Logan thanked you, sending you what was probably the first genuine smile of the day. "You being here means a lot."

"There's no where else I'd rather be." You admitted, heat rising to your cheeks at your admission. Before you could hide, afraid you made the situation weird, Logan cupped your cheek and leaned forward. Neither of you had a chance to make a move before your phone went off, interrupting the moment. You cursed silently at your brother for choosing now to text you. "I should probably get going or Max will send out a search party."

"Yeah, I should probably show my face in the garage." Logan groaned. He didn't want to but knew he had to keep up appearances for the team.

"I'll text you later." You promised him as he walked you to the door. You hugged Logan goodbye and left but not before you bumped into Alex. "Hey Alex."

"Hey Y/N." He called after you. Alex then turned to Logan giving him a knowing smirk.

"We're just friends." Logan said, trying to convince himself more than anything because there was no way he could have a crush on a fellow drivers sister. Alex grinned at his teammate, not believing him one bit.

-x-

Logan was nervous. More nervous than he was before he got into his car on race days. He had no reason to though because you were just friends. That's what he kept telling himself, afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you. You had texted earlier that you were coming over to his hotel room, bringing food with you, and since then Logan was on edge. It felt like a date but you hadn't said anything to suggest it was.

A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. He opened the door and there you were, takeout bags in each hand and a grin on your face. It was enough for the nervousness Logan had to melt away. "I heard about this place from Oscar and he reckons its the best food in Melbourne. So if its bad we can just blame him." You said as you walked into his room. "And I know it may be breaking our diet but we can just do an extra lap of the track tomorrow." You rambled on, taking the boxes out of the bag. When Logan didn't say anything you looked up, seeing him softly smiling at you making you self conscious. "I'm overstepping, aren't I? I am so sorry. You probably want to be by yourself now after today. I'll leave you alone now."

"Please don't." Logan pleaded, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. He gently grabbed your hand to stop you from leaving his room. "I enjoy your company. In fact you're making this whole weekend bearable." Logan pulled you close, his nose brushing yours. "So please don't leave." He mumbled against your lips before kissing you. You melted into his kiss, forgetting any worries you had.

[babyleostuff1]

── a beautiful mess | LN4

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: lando norris x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 654

SYNOPSIS: (lando + cooking = disaster) the one where your boyfriend tries making you dinner

your boyfriend was talented in many things, but cooking was not one of them. once, at the beginning of your relationship when you didn’t know about lando’s inability to make a toast that wasn’t burned, you proposed making dinner together, hoping it’d be as romantic as in the movies. 

well - ever since that day lando had been forbidden from entering the kitchen. 

„lan, i’m home!” you yelled out from the hall, and sighed in relief. finally home. today wasn’t your best day, and to be honest all you wanted was to order takeout and cuddle with your boyfriend, maybe watch a movie if you didn’t fall asleep before that. 

but the apartment was oddly silent. „lando?” usually your boyfriend came running to you, resembling an excited golden retriever, but now he was nowhere to be seen which was weird. you peeked into the living room in search of lando, and that's when the funky smell hit you.

following the smell and sizzling sounds you entered the kitchen, and the view in front of you had to be the most endearing yet funny thing ever. 

„lando?” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man. „what are you doing?”

your boyfriend was standing in front of the stove with two pans in his hands, looking very much panicked by the state of the food being half burned already. next to him were three cutting boards with half-cut vegetables (which looked as if they had been cut by a five-year-old), and a lot of mess. 

“huh?” he raised his head in surprise. it was funny how most people knew him from his hot/i’m going to provide sexy content for edits side, and you, on the other hand, had to deal with a cute lando most of the time. this time was no different.

„baby,” you sighed, and rested your head against the door frame, „what are you doing in the kitchen?” 

lando whined quietly and dropped his head, looking between the two pans in his hands. “could you help? please?" you nodded and took his place at the stove with a gentle smile. you quickly fixed the mess that lando made and once you were sure that your apartment wasn't in danger of burning down, you turned to your boyfriend. “care to explain, hmm?” you asked and ran your fingers through his messy curls.

"well, when we texted earlier today, i knew you weren't having the best day and..." he sighed and shyly grabbed your hand that was still in his hair, placing a kiss on it. “so i just wanted to do something nice for you, and since you're always the one who makes dinner, i wanted... well, i wanted to make something to eat. it didn't work out. as usual.”

you'd be lying if you said his words didn't melt your heart. the sincerity in his voice and the love in his eyes were so evident and these were the moments that made the weeks of being apart so much worth it. 

„lan,” you muttered, grabbing his face between your hands. „i love you so much, and i really appreciate you, um,” you looked around the kitchen, „trying, but you really didn’t have to.” 

lando laughed quietly, nuzzling his cheek further into your hand.  „do you think whatever this is,” he pointed to the pans, „is still edible?” 

you crooked your eyebrow at the half burned vegetables, but you didn’t have the heart to tell your boyfriend that it’d probably taste like shit.

„i think we can still save it,” you said instead. „but you mister,” you lowered your hand to squeeze his bicep, „are going to stay away from the food.” 

a wide smile quickly appeared on lando's face. “i’m fine with that,” he said, grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so he could wrap his arms around you. 

„this is even better,” he mumbled, and kissed your shoulder.

[russellsppttemplates]

Straight from the heart (Lando Norris)

It takes a bad race for Lando to notice how much he has neglected your relationship, and he can only hope he can fix it

Note: english is not my first language. I was fighting the other piece I was writing so I jumped to this one and I did something a little bit different (* cough cough * longer) and see how it goes! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me), but I promise this has a happy ending!! 🥹🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: relationship struggles, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

The result on the screen was not the one you hoped. Lando had a wonderful race, but a mixture of bad strategy calls, dark rain clouds appearing on the sky with only a couple of laps left to finish the race and the wrong tire compound made him lose a good number of places, cars overtaking him in the last seven laps.

"Is the race over?", you mother asked as she stepped inside the living room, carrying the curtains she had left out to dry and proceeding to hang them back in their place.

"Yes, just now", your father said as he adjusted the volume on the TV, "let me help you, darling", he offered, getting up and standing beside your mum in case she got out of balance.

"Are you going to call Lando?", your mother asked once her squinty eyes read the position he had finished in. Even though the prescription glasses were on the table, she insisted she didn't want any mishaps after she accidentally dropped her last pair while she was gardening and one of your younger cousins found a rusty frame a couple of months later when he was over.

"I'm not, I don't think - he's flying back tonight and the timezone is so different, I don't want to bother him", you blurted defensively, making up excuses as you went along with your answer, "he's doing the interviews, and I'm sure the debrief will be long and torturous - he will need his rest to fly back", you stated as you got up, "I have to check on the project I handed in on Friday, the professor said he would post the grades around this time and if we want to appel, we have to do it right away - I'll be in my bedroom".

The subject was an open wound that stung everytime you so much heard a mention of it, let one having to seem completely okay with it when it ripped through your heart.

The calendar on your wall is full of stickers, both with notes, urgent matters and things you couldn't forget. It's the last stretch, you tell yourself, one more week and then it's done and you'll have a well deserved break.

A knock on your door catches your attention as you reply with the allowance to let whoever is on the other side in, "is something wrong?", you asked. Lately, the negative side of your mind was the first one to speak.

"That's what I want to ask you - that conversation we just had downstairs was not your usual self", she sighed as she pointed to the living room, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned him much, but I don't want to intrude or offer my help because I know you don't like meddling", your mother looked for your eyes before you could fully focus on the wooden floor.

"Things have been rough between us lately", you sighed, "Lando is keeping me at a distance, and I don't know the reason why, mum", you shrugged, "I don't know if it's because I've known him all my life and the comparison is so profound, but it seems he only cares about racing and his friends, and I'm nowhere in the mix. We rarely call eachother, no texting - I know the triple headers are intense, but all I got from him were reactions to my stories and a little video from Max where he's in it and said something to me", you recalled, "I can't be the only one making an effort, can I? Either he realised where this is going and we catch it while we can, or I don't know where this is going, I don't know where we're going".

Your mother's heart broke as she saw you allow the tears you had held on to fall freely, your sleeves bunched up on your hands to wipe them, "and have you talked about this? A long, grown-up and serious conversation?", she mused.

"We have barely been with eachother, mum!", you whispered shakily as more tears got caught on your throat.

"Couples go through phases, darling - do you think me and your father was all smooth sailing?", she tried to get you to smile as she brushed your hair while she hugged you, "you need to talk to eachother, seriously and let it all out, nothing is off limits because that's how you'll get to where you need to".

You kept your head on your mother's chest, accepting her comforting hold despite being an adult. A mother's hold was truly the best.

You hoped she was right and this was something that would pass. A rough patch that you and Lando would work through a look back on with a sense of accomplishment.

This wasn't how you and Lando end, is it?

.

Max and Lando headed for the plane as soon as they left the race track, having made prior arrangements to had their luggage there waiting for them once they arrived. Max was the first to sit down and get himself comfortable on the seat, texting his girlfriend to let her know they were leaving.

"Y/N hasn't called or even texted me, nothing", Lando mumbled, "didn't she watch the race? Doesn't she know that I need her?".

Max weighed in the good and the bad that his next few words could do. He could either be honest and encourage his best friend to finally come to his senses, or keep covering the lie and perpetuate the suffering and miscommunications.

"This is not how I wanted to do this - truth be told, I never wanted to have to do it", Max rambled off.

Lando was quick to notice that there was more to it than just this instance, "you know something - she's my girlfriend, Max, if something is happening, I deserve to know", he said in an antsy tone.

"Are you really so blind to it? Have you not noticed it yet? Damn it, Lando, I've been on your side, trying to clean it up and now I'm questioning it", Max declared as Lando only grew more confused.

"What am I missing Max?", Lando snapped, even catching his own self off guard at the reaction he had.

"Mate, think about the last couple of months and whether or not you have been a good boyfriend, or even the boyfriend Y/N deserves", Max offered.

Lando wasn't expecting that answer or point of view.

The last couple of months roll through his memory as if he's watching a movie and when he tries to select the moments he spent with you, he finds himself struggling to gather any at all. He can't remember any of the times you spent together, and considering his memory isn't that bad, it could only mean those moments didn't even happen. Thinking about it, he can remember the last time he held you in his arms, just the two of you.

"Fuck!", Lando shouted, punching the arm rest.

"Glad you figured that one out almost all on your own", Max tsked, "do you really think you deserve any interaction from Y/N? Thought so", Max muttered. He didn't like the situation his friends found themselves in, and he certainly didn't feel any joy in the words he told Lando, but the truth wasn't always easy to hear.

"Seems Y/N doesn't think so either", Lando mumbled, "do you know anything? Has she told you anything?".

He wasn't sure he deserved to know, but he needed to.

"The last time I spoke to her she didn't say anything - you know how Y/N doesn't want to bother anyone with her things and getting information from her is harder than solving the world's problems -, but P and her talk here and there", Max reasoned, "she obviously won't tell me all the details but from what I can tell, Y/N has really taken a toll because of this, P is always quite upset whenever it comes up", Max offered. Quite upset wouldn't cover it, so much so that, unbeknownst to Lando, the last couple of time Max's girlfriend couldn't join them for their plans was an orchestrated excuse from her to avoid being in the same room as the McLaren driver.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Lando groaned into his hands, "how could I not realise this was happening?".

"You want the honest, blunt truth?", Max asked and Lando nodded, "I know it's your job, but lately, it's all been about racing, and I think you've neglected Y/N ", Max offered.

McLaren had a one hundred and eighty degree turn lately. From struggling to get their cars in the points, the team had managed to turn things around to the point where P5 and P8 was considered a bad weekend for them.

With the new signings, Quadrant had grown exponentially and it had naturally drawn him to spend more time on it, and it seemed to have alienated everyone in his life that wasn't directly a part of those.

It wasn't intentional, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And by the looks of it, the person Lando loved and cared about most was also the one he hurt the most.

They both sat in silence as the British drive thought about all of it. Things got so good that he didn't look back, he worked his hardest and gave every piece of himself to the cause and the new territory he was paving. Being on the podium was a common feature for him, and the race win was there, up for grabs and he wanted it. Yet, he had been dazzled by it and had let himself fly higher, his characteristic "both head and feet on the ground" posture no longer present and resulting in a degree of neglection for the things and people thay mattered to him.have always been important to me.

"How did I push away the most important person in my life and I'm just now realizing this?", Lando asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather to let out all the frustration that boiled inside him, anger soon following at his late realisation, "what's worse is that I've only come to realise this because you had to tell me - stupid, stupid, stupid".

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, mate, and frankly there isn't much I can, but look on the bright side: now you have a chance to fix it", Max tries to comfort Lando.

"What if it's too late? What if Y/N doesn't want to be with me anymore?", Lando voicesd his deepest fear. What if the anger had finally got to you and you wanted to call it quits?

"Wouldn't you be able to understand that? I don't think that is the case - I've never seen two people who love eachtoher more than you two, it's as disgusting as it it lovely most times. And even though she might feel angry or hurt, I believe she has it in her to forgive you", Max states.

"I hope you're right", Lando sighed as he tapped his phone, his finger hovering over your contact.

"I wouldn't do that", Max chirped, "you should rest before diving into anything about that topic, and today has had too many emotions as it is. Tomorrow is a new day for you to think about it", he advised.

With his head on the headrest, Lando went over everything that occupied his mind, allowing the heavy sinking feeling to settle in. To a degree, he deserved the discomfort he felt. Shame, guilt, frustration, remorse, embarrassment, overwhelm, sadness.

What if he had destroyed the thing that made him the happiest? If I managed to single out the person who loved him for him?

.

Lan 🧡

Hello. You were probably expecting a text or a call, but the last few days haven't been easy and I needed to ground myself a little. We really need to talk, Y/N. Do you think we can grab lunch today?

It irritated you how quick your heart was beating the minute you saw who sent you the text after you submitted all the projects that you had left. Battling an inner fight of whether or not you should answer it, you decided to so it. Rip the band-aid off, Y/N.

To Lan 🧡

Hello... We do urgently need to talk. I'm on my own today - where do you want to go?

Your tone was cold and unusual when you compared it to the older messages, filled with hearts and the pet names you had for eachother.

We can go to that café by the marina, the one with the paninis you really like.

Yes, we'll meet here at one pm.

Do you want me to pick you up?

No, I'll walk.

Your sunglasses are good enough to hide the nervous gloom on them as you walked to the marina. There is no script or guideline to go about this lunch other than honesty and finally admitting everything you were feeling. It could go either way and, truth be told, you believed it would go down the way it was supposed to.

Stepping on the wooden path to the small café's outside area, you looked for the boy whose arms were where you used to feel safe.

Lando chose a table that overlooked the water, the warm sun shinning and bringing out the blue of it. It would be a big conversation, and while the café wasn't crowded, he never knew how things could pan out so he went for the most demure spot.

When you take a proper look at him, it surprises you. His eyes are not shiny like they usually are - there's a dark hue surrounding them along with sadness.

"Hey", you utter out to grab his attention.

The moment he faces you, you feel naked despite the summery dress you have on. All vulnerabilities exposed for the person who knows you best and who can read you like the back of his hand.

"Hello, hi", Lando cleared his throat, "how have you been?".

Setting your bag on the chair, you shrugged, not ready to engage in casual chit chat.

"Do you already know what you are having?", he wondered.

"The italian panini and iced tea", you mumbled after looking at the menu he handed you, "have you ordered yet?", you mused before calling the waiter to do so.

The silence between you after the waiter left the table was painful and hard to digest. You avoided looking at his colourful eyes - once you did it, breaking down would be in an instant.

"We really need to talk, Y/N", Lando says.

"Do you want to go first? Or shall I?", you asked bitterly, accepting his silence.

The waiter comes back with your orders. The café doesn't have a big menu and it's mostly empty, so the service was quick, "I hope you enjoy it - Bon appétit!", he interrupted the tension filled moment.

"I recognise I need to apologize to you for all the things I did without realizing it an-", Lando was cut off by you.

"Let me stop you there before this derails", you stated, "I'm here to have a serious, grown up conversation, so I'm not going to sit here and listen to dusty and beaten up childish excuses".

If the ground could sink him into it, Lando would've accepted it gladly.

"It's a start that you have realised that something was wrong, but you can't excuse yourself like that, Lando. Not when this situation has taken proportions that you can't fanthom - you can't get away with being sorry for not noticing what you were causing", you argued.

Lando gave you a nod, "I'm still not sure about all the things that led us to this point and what it entails, and that's why I wanted you here. I don't want to be blind to it anymore - I want to get all of it so all the pieces make sense in my head. You probably won't believe it, Y/N, but I'm so lost in this. I feel like I've lived a parallel universe for the past couple of months", Lando added all in one go.

"When did your feet come back to the ground?", you mused, "when did you feel like maybe things weren't the way they should be?". The curiosity was killing you, and the answer could very well do the last stab.

"When I lost all of those places in the race", Lando gulped, "I expected you to call and to hear your comforting words, and they never came. Max was the one to bring my mind to the matter", he admitted and you could see he was the opposite of proud of his own actions, "How I've been the worst boyfriend in the world and how I deserved that you didn't call - hell, I'm not even sure if I deserve that you're here today and willing to listen to what I have to say".

It's difficult to maintain a tough appearance and pretend that his words don't affect you, but alas, you keep your armour on.

"That afternoon was a struggle for me, Lando. I wanted nothing more than to call you and hear your voice, silence your cornerns and negative thoughts, let you know that you're the best driver out there and that a bad race doesn't define you. That it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't beat yourself up because of it, that I was still so proud of you and how you handled things and that nothing could keep me from shouting to the rooftops. But you didn't deserve it, my dignity has been punched by your actions day in day out for the past couple of months and I couldn't take it anymore".

"I need you to hear things from your side, I need to know your perspective so I can understand what I did wrong and if I'm able to fix it still", Lando asks desperately.

"We should start from the beggining then", you laced your hands on top of the table after taking a bite of your panini, "I think it was at the end of the last season - at the time it didn't seem like it, but looking at it now, it was the start. I even took some time off and travelled with you so we could enjoy your break, then I came back for university. It's never easy, I know, but up until then we never had any issues with it - even if it was a bloody run, we made time for eachother. Then, you barely texted, let alone call - but all relationships hit rough patches and I thought that it was ours. Then Christmas came around and we finally felt like us again, there were no work or uni commitments, and it was bliss. After that, life happened again and I couldn't find a way to spend time with you - there was always a Quadrant video to film or a meeting or some event. You, Max and Martin went to Bali, and despite the fact that I didn't have any exams and could easily do university stuff remotely - like I do everytime - you didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go or if I had planned something for us in the first place. I just took it for granted that you would spend it with me, but when P showed me the photos I looked like a fool and an ungrateful friend and girlfriend because I stayed back, Lando. I never felt so humiliated. Max had his girlfriend and you didn't, you ignored me as if I didn't matter to you", you breathed out. Ruminating was one thing, talking about it out loud was another. The latter angered you less and hurt more.

"I'm sorry", Lando murmured and you were quick to shoot it down.

"I don't need you to apologize now, Lando. What I needed was for you to make a decision then, one that considered me and what I wanted", you sighed, wiping a stubborn tear that got out, "after that, I just watched you pull further and further away, and I tried to get closer, work things out, but you wouldn't let me in. You floated and floated and I stayed here, both feet glued to the ground as I watched you go higher and higher. You were never like this, letting things get to your head wasn't something you ever did, but it happened. You alienated me in such a way that for this triple header, I didn't hear your voice once unless it was from the TV or the McLaren social media. You only wanted to call when you needed comfort, and it hurts that it took Max to help you see things the way they are", you state as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Apart from your earlier bite, both wooden serving boards look full and no one made a move to go further.

"You told me time and time again that you would always be there for me, but when I was the one needing a cuddle and reassuring words, I was all alone in my bedroom, crying because of you. When you said you'd be there for me, I guess you failed to account for the fact that you can't protect me from yourself.. Because what hurt me these past couple of months was you", you declared, sniffling and, finally, looking into Lando's swollen and tear-filled eyes.

The tears Lando has been holding back fell. He was angry with himself, at how he had done the one thing he promise not to do to you. He made you hurt, he was the reason you were in pain and he couldn't keep you from feeling it.

"I wish I could tell you there was a reason behind it and that it all has some justification, but there isn't and I can't lie to you. I was propelled from the results and the promise that this could be our year - my year - and everything else faded away. I know it's not any help, but I'm not proud of what I did, and definitely not proud of the way I made you hurt - I wish I could turn back time and do it differently", Lando confessed.

"I needed you, Lando", she bit back.

Lando couldn't find any words after that and once you began eating the now cold panini, he followed your movements, granting you the quietest meal you ever shared with him. Lando was playful, loud, cheery and giggly on any other day. As much as it nagged you that your words were the ones to dim that light, you had to put yourself first. Someone had to.

"Can we walk along the marina?", Lando asked once you finished eating, earning your nod to his surprise.

You both get up, Lando paying for your meal at the front before you left the establishment. You walked along, looking at the luxurious boats and yachts before you found a part of the wall that you was comfortable enough to sit on, remaining in silence as you watched a couple of people unlock their yachts and sailing away.

Lando wanted to say something, to prove to you that he was sorry and that he still loves you more than anything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing and hurting you even deeper was not something he wanted to risk.

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?", Lando voiced the biggest worry on his mind since he left his apartment.

"I walked here, so I had time to think about all of this, and all I could think was that I was going to meet you there, be reminded of all the pain you made me feel, and then we wouldn't see a solution to this. And on my way here, it got harder because I passed by the shop where we always go for croissants, and then that park where I tripped and you carried me home because of my bruised knee even though I could walk just fine, the bench where that lady asked if Mila was our daughter when your brother visited. And when I arrived at the café and saw you, I knew there was no way I could do it", you half smiled.

"I struggled to see what was happening, and I didn't see what was clearly in front of me, and I know I can't undo all of the crap that I've made", Lando pointed out, "but I can say that I love you, Y/N. I love you even more than when I asked you to be my girlfriend, which I never thought was possible, but everyday I love you a little bit more. I know I won't be able to love anyone the way I love you and, honestly, I'm not sure who I am without you, because I've turned into a person I don't recognise anymore and I'm afraid that if I don't have you around, this is the real me, and I don't like it. You make me a better person - since day one! I'll love you forever, but I also understand that you don't need this pressure in your life and that you want us to be over. I deserve that", Lando mumbled.

As much as the idea of not being with you hurt him, he knew it didn't equate to the pain he caused you hence why he deserved it if you dumped him.

"You're making it so hard", your groaned rubbing your temples, "It would have been so much easier if you had told me that you didn't care about this, that you didn't care about me anymore".

"That's never going to happen, Y/N", Lando assured you.

"It would be so much easier if I told you to fuck yourself off, wouldn't it?", you chuckled and Lando got to see a small glimpse of the world's best smile, "but I can't do it - I do think, though, that we need to take some time, for both of us to work on our own things", you suggested.

"I get it, you can have all the time and space you need, Y/N", Lando nodded, "would it be too much to ask if I asked you for another shot?", he wondered as you quirked an eyebrow, "I know you just asked me for some time, and I'll give it to you, but I'm not going to let you entertain the thought that I don't care about you or that I don't love you any longer. I'm still the same person you met all those years ago and I want to remind you why you fell in love with me in the first place - if that's even the case", he blurted, "please".

"Slow steps, okay?", you mused with a small small.

"Is it still the case?", Lando picked up where he left off, "are you still in love with me?".

"If I wasn't in love with you and if I didn't love you, trust me, I wouldn't be here", you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours on top of the warm stone.

.

Over the last couple of days, you felt lighter. University was finally over for the semester and you could rest, and the whole situation with Lando was better. Even though it hurt to tell him all of those things and see his reaction, and even if Lando still had a lot to make up for, you had to admit you didn't expect to feel like this right away. The right path was being trailed and you couldn't feel more at peace with it.

So far, he kept his respectful distance, which didn't mean that you didn't know he was there. Two days after you met him in the marina, Lando sent you a bunch of flowers to your doorstep, your mother being the one to bring them up to your bedroom since she was arriving from work as the delivery man was about to knock on the door, smirking when she saw who it was from.

You were getting ready to go out for a picnic with Lando. The sunny day invited you to go out and Lando seemed to think the same, sending you a quick text with the location and plan ideas.

"Where are you off to?", your mother asked as she noticed you looking for your hat, "you look very nice, dear".

"Lando invited me for a picnic", you offered her a smile despite the butterfly feeling on your tummy.

"I'm glad you're working things out, Y/N - I know how much you care about him. And even if he hurt you, he's doing the work to get you back - a lot of men would just give up, but not Lando", your mother nudged. She always liked him despite her initial concerns when he moved up the racing ladder and the toll it would take on you. For a brief moment, she was upset that she had been right, but she never lost the hope that the young man dating her daughter would fight for them and for her. For you.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but if I'm not home for dinner, don't worry too much", you added, waving at her before closing the door.

You drove yourself to the park, politely declining Lando's offer to pick you up. As you followed the directions, you spotted Lando under one of the trees, seemingly battling with the corner of the picnic blanket.

"Hey, need help with that?", you called as you approached him, noticing his flustered face at getting caught.

"Hey! It's fine, it's fine", he dusted off his shorts, "I didn't fold the corner properly, never mind iron this", he grumbled.

"We're going to sit on it, I don't think we needed it ironed", you smiled, setting your small backpack on the blanket and occupying the space that wasn't covered with glass containers and pape bags, noticing the logo of your favourite bakery and the sweets shop near Lando's apartment.

"So, I baked these - who knew my oven works, hm?", he joked as he pulled out some granola bars that smelled delicious, "Jon did give me the recipe, but I made them! He says they don't have any harmful raw ingredients in them so there's no danger if they're not cooked properly".

"You could've told me to bring something too", you sighed, "you had all this trouble and I'm just going to sit here and eat it", you reasoned.

"I think we've gathered that I deserve all this trouble, even though I didn't mind doing it - I think I finally get it when people say they find baking relaxing, even if I just threw some oats and syrup on a bowl with nuts and chocolate", Lando shrugged.

You smiled at his antics, "this looks lovely, Lan - thank you", before you grabbed a paper napkin to grab the food.

Lando's heart did a little backflip at the pet name - when he thought about it, he can't remember the last time you called him anything other than his name.

He wiped the thought away as he noticed you get one of the paper bags, "It was no trouble, but I did have to make sure the lady at the pastry shop knew I was the next in line because there was this lady, you should've seen her, she was, like, eighty? I don't know, maybe more than that, and she was very posh and very proper and she was trying to cut in line! Then she started saying something in French and I was like 'no can do, madam! I need to get these croissants for my girlfri- for Y/N because they're her favourites' - I bet she wanted to get them first but I did!", he dramatised the scene, earning your loud laugh. How much he missed that sound.

"Seems like it was a little troublesome, though", you teased. Inside your chest, your heart beat fast at his efforts.

"You're worth it", he smiled before taking a bite of the granola bar, "not to toot my own horn, but for someone who eats pre-prepared meals, this is amazing! Try these!", he offered, forming a shell with his hand before he brought it up to your mouth.

For anyone else, this would be just another set of cute behaviours, but for you, it carried a sense of intimacy you hadn't felt in a while. Taking a bite of it and chewing, you had to admit the balance of the nutty taste and the chocolate was on point, "it is good, Lan! You should make granola bars more often - might even make a side business out of it!", you smiled.

"Charles has some ice-cream, there's alcohol from the other guys too - me? Granola bars", he smiled, eating the rest of it and looking at you. He would never be stupid again. He would never take you for granted. Never ever.

The conversation flowed once you started eating, mainly pointing out the new swings in the park or the pretty blooms that were showing up, and even though you weren't acting like you would had it not happened, it was comfortable and Lando had definitely put some effort into this.

"Thank you for this, Lando", you smiled after you helped him clean up the supplies, making sure he wouldn't have any spills and trouble taking the rest home.

"It's alright, really", Lando mumbled as blood rushed to his cheeks, "it wasn't much, but I wanted to make sure you remembered I'm still in and that I love you more than anything", he smiled, closing the basket and getting up with it to walk back to the car, "which actually brings me to an invite I want to make you", he went back to mumbling again.

The invite was a risk, he knew it. After all, it was the reason that got your relationship here in the first place. Yet, he wanted you there and he thought it would be good. Adding to it, it would be the way that he could make sure he was able to see you as it would be a busy day.

"What is it?", you asked as you walked with him.

"The day after tomorrow, we're going karting - Max and P are coming over for a few days, they arrive tomorrow - and I was wondering if you wanted to join us", he invited, "I know it's not the best environment to be in given al-", he started rambling.

"I'd love to go, Lando", you assured, touching his arm confortingly, "I might need a ride though, if you don't mind doing the detour", you pointed out.

"It's fine, of course we'll pick you up!", he smiled, happy and excited at your answer.

"That's me", you nodded to your mother's car, unlocking it with the key, "thank you so much for this, Lan, I appreciate it a lot", you smiled, raising your stance so you could kiss his cheek, "will you text me the details when you know, please?".

"Yes! Absolutely!", he gave you a big smile again, "until then, Y/N!", he waved.

As Lando walked back to his car, there was an extra spring up on his step, a new found energy and a smile that insisted on not disappearing from his lips.

Little by little, he was slowly getting you back.

.

"Why are we going this way?", Max asked as Lando took the first exit on the roundabout, "isn't the track that way?".

Lando couldn't contain his smile, "we're going to pick Y/N up first".

Max and Pietra exchanged a look before rhe blonde woman spoke up, "you finally came to your senses?".

"P!", Max scolded.

"It's alright, Max - she's not wrong", Lando added, "but yes, I have, and I'm working on it, respecting her but making sure she knows how much I regret it, how sorry and how bad I feel that it happened and how I'm trying my hardest to make sure it does happen again", Lando turned around once he stopped at the red light, "Thank you for looking after her when I didn't, P. I know you have been a good friend to her, so thank you for that", he added.

"She didn't deserve what you did to her, but I'm happy you figured it out and that you're working on it - I don't say it too often, but if you two ever broke up, I would consider that true love isn't a thing, what you two have is something else entirely", she smiled.

"Excuse me?!", Max dramatised, "what did you just say?".

"Did I lie, Max? Who was it that came home in a nervous fit without any fingernails because they bit all of them off after Lando realised what happened? The same person who couldn't even sleep because of it? Who was it, hm?", she quesioned her boyfriend.

Lando chuckled at his friends, thinking that they really had been made for one another, "you two make me look like the sanest person inside this car", he shook his head, pressing the pedal and turning into your street.

There you were, the person he was sure was made for him too. Your outfit was simple, consisting of black jeans, black trainers, a shirt sleeve polo and a cardigan on your arm.

"Hi guys!", you greeted, getting inside the car and kissing Pietra's cheek before putting your seatbelt on.

"Why don't I get a kiss?", Max pouted.

"Because you stink, that's why", Lando chirped in, "all ready to go back there?", he mused, sending you a wink from the rear view mirror.

Blushing, you nodded before looking at Pietra again, accepting her hand in yours as she gave it a squeeze. For the whole drive to the track, you engaged light conversation, mainly listening to the plans they had for the clips they were filming before they raced eachother since you and P would happily drive around in the karts just to pass the time.

For the first segment, you stayed on the stands, watching the team get the equipment ready.

"How have you been, Y/N?", Pietra asked as she handed you a bottle of water she had gone to her and taking a sip of her own.

"I've been well - university is finally done with and I can actually have a thought that doesn't involve it", you giggled, "and Lando is home", you offered.

"Now, I wasn't going to be so blunt, but that is the subject I wanted to get at", she raised her eyebrows playfully.

"He's... Goodness, he's Lando again, my Lando", you sighed happily, "surely, it still stings a little and we need to work through our issues, but we're trailing our way through them. Learning our ways together - it's a bit like falling in love again and it's such a good feeling", you blushed at your admission, "it's doing us well and we're going with it, and not out of it", you smiled.

"Y/N", Pietra cooed, "you have no idea how make that makes me! It's so good to see you so happy and hopeful", she squeezed your arm, "I was ready to avenge you on him, by the way, Max did us both a favour in telling him, because I was sure what I wanted to do to Lando was considered a crime and I'm a good person", she raised her hands defensively.

Once the boys were done, Max waved at you to come down and meet them, giving them the time to get your equipment ready.

"Come here, I need to make sure you don't fly out of your kart this time", Max called his girlfriend after she was fully equipped to go on the single seater.

You finished the makeshift hairstyle before you looked for the helmet, finding it in Lando's hands, "come here, big head, I'll help you put it on", he smiled.

As you approached him, you could see his sudden nervousness at having you so close to him, hands setting the helmet on top of your head and then pulling in on, "Look who's talking", you mumbled quickly before it was all the way in, his fingers gingerly touching your neck as he did the strap buckle.

"All good for our speed daredevils?", Max joked, getting an instant slap from Pietra before he got up.

"Does it feel safe, Y/N?", Lando checked with you, making you wiggle a little to make sure you were strapped tightly enough, making you flash his two thumbs up.

"Ready, set, go!", Max yelled before you and Pietra went off, happily driving on the track despite not extracting the full potential out of the kart.

"You and Y/N seem well", Max offered as him and Lando took a break before they joined you back at the track.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this guilt on my chest, it's like a weird weight that sits here and gets heavy every now and again", Lando explained, "but I think we're going in the right direction, and I'm going to spend every day of our lives making sure it never happens again. Y/N will never doubt my love or affection for her. I just want to make her happy now that she knows I know how much I screwed us up".

"I'm proud of you, man", Max tapped his back.

"You're what?", Lando asked, a little flustered at his bestfriends words.

"I'm proud of you, Lando - you're dealing with this in such a good way! I'm not saying I doubted you would, but seeing you actually do it and make it happen in such a grown up, loving and accountability filled way makes me proud of who you became. As much as I joke about it, what P said in the car was true - you and Y/N are it. Whenever I think about what endgame is, you two are the first thing that comes to mind", he admitted.

"Thanks, mate", Lando replied earnestly.

After a couple of laps from you, you saw the boys joining you in the track, making you assure that whenever they lapped you, you made a Mario Kart like noise, always managing to get a smile and a headshake from Lando and Max.

Once you were done, Max and Pietra volunteered to take all of the supplies back to the storage room.

"Did you enjoy your day, Y/N?", Lando asked as he approached you.

Surprising him, you nodded before you hugged him, "I haven't been this happy in a long time", you cuddled him, letting your head rest on his chest and letting yourself feel enveloped by his arms after the initial shock wore off.

"I'm glad", Lando uttered out before he composed himself, "I just want you to know that I could fulfill all your dreams and that there I'll never do anything to hurt you again. I'm well aware of all shit I've done and put you through, and how accountable I am for it. I just want to make you happy", he chuckled, "I don't want anything else in this world other than to make you happy, to show you how much I love you and that I want make this work, I want to make us work", he let out in such a serious and intense tone that you could feel a knot forming your throat, "you were my first love and I want you to be my last, Y/N".

"Lan...", you gasped softly, "I know it hasn't been good for you, but I just need a little bit more time to put it behind me, once for all", you added.

"I know, and that's alright", he mumbled against the top of your head, "I just wanted you to know that it is coming straight from my heart - everything I do, I do it for you", plucking up the courage to press a kiss there.

You closed your eyes and basked in the feeling, "two Bryan Adams references in the same sentence from the guy who used to DJ? You impress me, Lando Norris", you giggled and teased him playfully, feeling the rubble from his own laugh on his chest.

"I'll make sure to impress you everyday that we're alive, Y/N Y/L/N", he promised.

And he intended to keep it.

.

Lando invited you to his apartment for a cosy night in, thinking the plans over and over while he waited for you to arrive.

The delivery service was faster than he expected so he wrapped the takeout boxes in all of the kitchen towells he had so they would help retain the heat while you weren't there yet.

The whole apartment was tidy, he had your favourite blanket on the sofa and the TV had your favourite shows ready to stream in the background as you hopefully shared a comforting meal.

Your acceptance to come to his place made Lando feel very pleased with the way you were trailing in your relationship. He had been able to correct his mistakes and make you happy again. Even though there had been moments where he seemed to forget, he now knew that you had always been and will always be a priority in his life. He had never been in love with anyone else, and he was sure he would always be in love with you until his last breath.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, heading up to the door to open it, "Hello hello! Come in", he gestured as you stepped inside, pecking his lips on the way - a few days prior, you had kissed him out of nowhere when you went to the bookshop and you swore he looked like a cartoon, all wide eyes and blushy cheeks.

Lando assured you you wouldn't leave the house and it would be just the two of you, so you hadn't bothered to put together a proper outfit, opting to wear a pair of leggings and an old Quadrant hoodie.

"I wasn't sure if I should bring anything, so I stopped by the sweets shop to get some of these hard candies, apparently they're very trendy now", you giggled sweetly as you set the bag on his hands so you could take your trainers off.

"You didn't have to, but thanks! We'll do a taste test after dinner - which is here by the way", he guided you to the living room.

Unravelling the mountain of kitchen towells, he had you sit down before he opened the containers, handing you a plate after you chose a bit of each of the dishes he ordered, "thank you, Lan", you smiled, sitting criss-cross on the sofa and waiting for him to do the same before you started eating.

"These are really good, have you tried them? They're new on their menu and when the guy explained it to me, I thought you'd like it", he pointed to one of the bite sized pieces.

"They are! They're not too heavy on the seasoning and they're really nice when you dip them in this sauce - try it!", you offered him the small cup.

"Is this going to be like the time you made me dip my spring rolls in that other sauce you claimed was the best thing in the world?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just try it, Lan!", you insisted, getting one from your plate, dipping it in the sauce and taking it up to Lando's mouth, your hand under the chopsticks in case some of it fell on his clothes.

Lando chewed it before nodding and humming in satisfaction, "is it good", he admitted with a smile after he wiped his lips.

Once you finished eating, you helped Lando bring everything back to the kitchen, saving the leftovers on his fridge, washing the plates and putting them away.

"You didn't have to help, I could've done it myself", Lando nudged before he laced your hand in his and pulled you back to the living room, "do you want to watch something?", he asked.

"There's this new Disney movie I haven't watched if you're up for it - or any of the shows we usually watch, I'm not picky", you answered quickly.

"Disney it is", he smiled sitting down and resting his arm on the back of the sofa, hoping you'd sit next to him and cuddle him.

You shuffled around before grabbing the fluffy blanket, pulling it over your legs and tentatively closing the distance between you, taking the plunge and taking a spot on his chest.

Once the movie was playing, Lando's arm dropped to wrap around you, lulling you closer to him and rubbing your arm.

"I can hear you thinking, and I'm sure you're not thinking about that little goat", you nodded to the screen.

"I'm watching the movie, I swear - and he's quite funny actually! He's also Mila's favourite character, at least he was last week", Lando chuckled, "but I was also thinking about us", he admitted.

"You were?", you turned to look up at him, wanting to know more.

"You do know I will apologize for what I did until the end of our lives, don't you?", Lando reflected out loud.

"Lando, stop it, it's forgiven and forgotten", you offered.

"Is it really?", he asked, a small smile breaking his way into his lips.

"It is, it's behind us now", you kissed his clothed chest.

"I will never forget it, though. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to forget it or that you've forgiven me", he let out a shaky sigh, "I don't think I will, I hate myself for what did to you, the hurt that I caused you".

"Lando, let's not talk about it right now - not now, not ever. It's a part of our story, yes, and we learned from it, but I don't want to to remember every day. We are good now, and I don't want you to torture yourself with something that is out of your reach and that you can't change", you told him sternly, now sitting back against the sofa so you can face your boyfriend, "Promise me we won't mention this again, Lando".

"You're right", Lando agrees, "Okay, you're right, I promise, Y/N", he stated with a smile.

Your delicate lips peck his quickly before you go in for a second kiss, longer and more intense this time, and you both got lost in eachother.

You couldn't change what happened, but you could learn from it and work everyday to make sure it never happened again.

Lando was crazy about you, about who he was when was with you and how you made him feel, and you felt the same way about him.

"I love you, Lando", you smiled after you pulled away, resting your forehead in his.

"I love you forever, Y/N", he whispered, sealing his promise with a peck and bracing himself, "I'm never taking you for granted, and maybe this is a big gesture and I'm not sure how much this fits our new way - new patch? It's not a patch if we want it to last forever, right? - anyway, I would like to ask you to move in with me", Lando stated, "it doesn't have to be tomorrow or right away, we'll do it when you're ready! I just- I spend so much time of the year away as it is, and I don't want to cut the short time even shorter when it comes to you, so this way we'll be together for a bit longer - even if it's just at nightime and we can intertwine our legs or I can warm up the bed for you", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Hey, hey! Lando, baby", you cupped his face with your hands, "look at me", you smiled as you straddled his lap, your thighs on each side of his and keeping you from fully sitting on him, "good now?".

"Well, since you're already there - sit, please", Lando added before he allowed himself to stress about your answer.

"I don't want to squash you", you mumbled.

Laying his hands in your thighs, he pulled you down, "I said sit down", he spoke sternly despite the playful glint on his eyes, "it's my home after all, I get to make the rules".

"Oh, I thought it was our home, but maybe I misread th-", your playfulness was cut short as your boyfriend flipped you around, your back hitting the soft sofa cushion with a yelp.

"You're moving in? For real?", he asked.

"Yes, baby, I'm moving in", you cupped his cheek, pulling him for a kiss, "I love you".

"My love, I'm going to spend everyday reminding you how beautiful, how strong", he started kissing your face with every word, "how kind, how amazing, how sexy, how hot, how smart, how kind, how incredible you are", he stopped just above your lips, "how all mine you are - I love you Y/N, forever", before he kissed your lips.

[juniperdugong]

How NOT to Summon a Demon

Pairing: demon!Sukuna x GN!reader (reader is in college) Genre: Fluff CW: Swearing WC: 872

Day 8 of To Halloween with Love Event

A/N: Hey at least my other two today were drabbles... ANYWAYS! Anyone up for domestic demon tutor Sukua AU tonight!! Hell yeah!

"I don't know how this happened..." You sat kneeling as you furiously scrambled to skim over pages and pages of text. Texts that you were sure you memorized to a tee but obviously... something went wrong somewhere along the way - Because instead of a silly little imp meant to help you with homework, you had a hulking man triple your size staring down at you.

"Yeah, well I'm here now and you've disturbed my peace." The man gruffs, grabbing at the book in your hand and examining it, "You screwed up."

"I know. Obviously, I know." You're scratching your head trying to think of something - anything - that would make this better. "What do I do? Send you back? How?"

"Nope. Can't be sent back till whatever you made a deal for is done..." Tossing the book aside the monster of a man took residence on your bed, making himself comfortable as you grew more and more uncomfortable with the situation; The bed squeaked and groaned with the sudden unknown weight.

"Oh- I wanted or- The deal I was trying to make was for help with my homework..." You sheepishly fold, now embarrassed as you hear the ridiculous words come out of your mouth - Who the hell tries to summon a demon to take care of something as simple as homework? And why the heck would a spell meant to do that summon this beast of a demon who obviously has more practice in killing than mathematics?

"Homework? Ha!" He picks himself up and grunts like an old man as he sits at the edge of the bed, "That's so stupid. You couldn't have made a deal to- I don't know. Become top of your class or graduate early of something?"

"I didn't have the foresight to make those types of deals..."

"Woah a dumbass like you can use big words like 'foresight'"

"Hey! That's mean." You snap back at him.

"I'm a literal demon... I don't know what you expected, babe." The use of a nickname throws you for a loop and your face gets warmer with the sudden casual talk between you two. You hear a deep chuckle come from the demon seeing your reaction.

He rubs his hands together and black dust begins to accumulate, with a simple snap a pair of glasses fit for himself apparates from nothing. "What are you doing then? Sit in your chair." He gestures towards your desk.

"What?" You do as he says out of fear but with confusion written all over your face.

"What do you mean 'what?', brat." He lurches forward and sits on the floor next to you, large enough that he sits at nearly the same height as you in your desk chair. "What are we doing first? Science, math, or English?"

---

The next few days become oddly comfortable with the presence of a demon. Thankfully, no one was able to see him other than you unless he wanted them to. Did this lead to many instances of him practically stalking you or appearing out of nowhere? Yes... but even these became common occurrences - Ones that you didn't really mind as long as you were getting your grades up.

It's only when the semester comes to a close and you and (who you learned to call) Sukuna are much more friendly than a person oughta be with a demon that you begin to wonder...

"Sukuna?"

"What, brat?" Sukuna mumbles, words slightly muffled as he nuzzles closer to your neck. You're both cuddled snuggly into each other. A light blanket draped over you because Sukuna's warmth was more than enough to keep the winter cold at bay.

"Why aren't you gone?" There's a pregnant pause as he takes in what you just said and you giggle as he suddenly manhandles you to face towards him - A furious look on his face (even more so than usual) that screws up into confusion.

"What? You want me gone?" He's stern and you can detect just a hint of sadness and distress coming from him as his thoughts race.

"No. I mean-" And you do your best to wrap your arms around him and bring him in close... Only able to pull yourself closer to his unmoving form in the process, "You said you'd be sent back once the deal is up. My grades are up and my school work is done, so I'm just wondering-"

Looking up you see the rarest of sights - a slight blush on Sukuna's face as you remember his words from so long ago. "Kuna?"

"What?-" He comes back to his senses, bringing you into a tight hug and smothering you with his chest so you wouldn't see the face of the demon go red from embarrassment. "You're so stupid that you probably wouldn't be able to live without me... so I decided to stay."

"Yof cam do dat?" (You can do that?) Your voice is completely muffled as he overpowers you.

"I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm a fucking demon, babe."

And you're not sure if you're comforted by his words but you're kinda glad that you got this guy instead of some whimpy imp.

A/N: And just like that I'm caught up lol. I'm obsessed with soft Sukuna, sorry not sorry. My JJk "drabbles" always end up being ficlets and I have no qualms about that.

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[tqmies]

WE'RE NOT FRIENDS | K. Gyuvin

Description. Gyuvin's not jealous - he doesn't even have a reason to be. You two were just friends who fucked sometimes! But in the back of his head, he knows he yearns for more, but do you?

Not tryna talk, just tryna kiss ya'. NOT FRIENDS // LOOΠΔ

Pairing. Fwb!Gyuvin x Fem!Reader

Warnings. MDNI. Smut, Curse words, Oral, Penetration, Condom Use (Wrap it), Crying (Not in a bad way)

Word count. 4K

Note: I wanted to do something better than this but I also wanted to get it out! Inspired by my anons who loved jealous gyuvin <3

You smile as you enter the dorm, greeted immediately by Gyuvin's friends. They must've known you were coming, you giggle as you follow through the hallway, Hanbin immediately going into a spiel about something that happened at work that morning.

You nodded in understanding, "You're so strong 'Bin, I would've thrown the drink at the customers face."

He laughed as he shook his head. "I'd be jobless."

You're about to respond when you're pulled away by a chattering Matthew, "Dude I have to tell you about this new machine they added to the gym-"

"Wait wait," Jiwoong appears out of seemingly nowhere. "First I have to show you this cat I took a picture of!"

He pulls out his phone, Hanbin and Matthew growing silent as they want to see the cat as well. You gasp in adoration as Jiwoong locates the picture. "Awe! Oh my goodness, he's so fat!"

Jiwoong nods. "Exactly!"

He's about to continue when Taerae comes barreling out of his room, dimples appearing as he speaks. "I heard your voice and came running."

You scrunch your nose, teasing. "Gosh, I didn't realize you were all so excited to see me."

"You need to come around more often so we can update you normally," Hanbin offers before looking apologetic. "Instead of clamoring around you before you can even make it to the living room."

You chuckle in response. "It's okay, I don't mind."

"Hao's out, but Ricky and Gunwook just left to go get us food! What do you want? I'll text them!" Matthew interjects, already typing on his phone before you wave him off.

You grip the box in your hand. "Ah, it's okay. I'm not staying, just came by to-"

"You're not staying?!" Yujin walks up before crossing his arms, wearing a pout. The younger always knew how to guilt trip you with those puppy eyes.

"I just came to drop off something for Gyuvin." You look around, noting that indeed, as you had thought, none of the boys around you were him. Funny how the others were more excited to see you.

"Oh come on," Taerae places a hand on your shoulder. "You should stay, eat with us!"

You stand awkwardly, not sure if Gyuvin would want you to stay. He hasn't even come out of his room to greet you yet. "I don't know.."

"Please?" Yujin begs, and you always had a soft spot for the younger boy. He reminded you of a little brother who just wanted his sister to stay for dinner. How could you say no to that?

"Well," You contemplate, you really should just drop the box off and leave. You sigh in defeat though, the faces around you looking so excited at the prospect. "Okay, I'll stay."

"Yes!" Jiwoong smiles, as the others look visibly happy as well. They were always so kind to you, and you were always glad Gyuvin's friends took a liking to you.

Oh, right. Gyuvin.

"I'll be right back, okay?" You say, making your way through to the point of the visit's room. You knock softly on his door, knowing it was just him alone in there, but also not wanting to disturb him if he was busy.

He opens the door, eyes immediately shifting to the box. He reaches it for it, "Thanks-"

You pull it back towards you. "Hey, how are you? Oh me? I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking! I did just drive all the way here to bring you this package that you ordered to my house so that way your roommates wouldn't get into it! Oh wow, thanks for the favor, I appreciate it so much that I'll even come greet you by the door when you get here."

He waits for you to finish your rendition as he looks down, your little mocking speech leaving him unamused. "You had plenty of people to greet you at the door."

You narrow your eyes, shoving the box into his hand in annoyance. "That's not the point, I came to see you."

Gyuvin just stares before he opens his mouth to speak but he's quickly interrupted by Matthew entering the hallway. "Food's here!"

You don't move, standing as you wait for Gyuvin to say something, anything. But he just gestures behind you before repeating, "Food's here."

You turn in disappointment, you don't know what you wanted him to say. But it definitely wasn't that.

You join the others at the dining table as they scoot over to make room for you. Seeing as one of them is missing, there's just the right amount of chairs.

Normally, you'd sit wherever there was room, but Ricky was quick to greet you and offer you the seat next to his. He pats the chair, "This one's open."

That's bullshit, Gyuvin notes. There were several other chairs that were open because not everyone was sitting yet. Like himself, who was waiting for you to sit so he could sit next to you.

That dream slowly dies in front of him as Jiwoong takes the seat to the other side of you, having to strangle off Hanbin for it. He shows you something on his phone that has you smiling brightly.

And for some twisted reason that he can't exactly explain.

Gyuvin hates it.

It's the same feeling he felt deep in the pit of his stomach earlier. He came out of his room right away to see you, but was stopped in his tracks when he saw the others hovering over you.

You seemed to forgotten who you had even come to see, so he sulked his way back to his room, unable to pinpoint what exactly it was that he was feeling.

Ricky, being the little shit he was, would call it jealously every time he would spill about his feelings —He only resorted to consulting him after Jiwoong suggested it was indigestion— but Gyuvin disagrees.

Why would he even be jealous? You two were just friends!

Friends who regularly fogged up his car windows from the backseat in an empty parking lot when he needed to clear his mind.

Friends who would often grind on each other in the dark of his room, his computer screen the only source of light in the late hours of the night.

Friends who were on their knees for each other when the other was stressed, because that's what friends are for, right?

But the word remained. Friends.

Even if he wanted to be jealous, he couldn't be, he had no right. You two weren't anything, he doesn't even think you like him like that.

But he thinks that if he has to watch Matthew wink at you one more time, he's going to slam his head against this table. But he's not jealous! Right... It was fine, everything was fine.

"Hao's gonna be upset he missed you, he's learning that one classical song you like on violin." Hanbin speaks up before leaning onto his hand. "What was the name? I can't remember"

Ricky vaguely recalls. "The one from Howl's Moving Castle?"

"Oh my gosh, he's learning Merry Go Round of Life?" You light up in your seat, clearly impressed. You forgot you had mentioned your love for the classical piece to them before.

Gyuvin can feel himself growing bitter, since when did you like that movie? Or that song? And why did he feel so left out right now? And even worse, why was Hao learning it for you? That felt so.. romantic.

"I've never seen that movie." Gunwook innocently comments as he places his chopsticks down.

"Me either." Taerae sighs as an idea pops into your head.

"Oh they're having a special showing of it at the theater next week for it's anniversary! I wanted to go but I didn't think anyone would wanna come with." You pout before raising a brow. "Unless you guys wanna go?"

The two are quick to nod and it's not long before the others pile on and ask if they can tag along too. Gyuvin's pissed, why didn't you just ask him? Of course he would've went to the movie with you. He didn't care what you two did, he just liked spending time together.

Truth be told, you were going to ask Gyuvin. He was your first option, seeing as he's your best friend, but since he was acting weird, maybe it'd be best to hang out with some of the other guys. What was his deal anyways?

Ricky breaks you from your thoughts. "Oh I saw this necklace the other day with your birthstone, but I wanted to ask you before I bought it."

Gyuvin is seething.

"Ricky," You smile as you place your drink down, eyes never leaving his. You were well aware of his habit of dropping money on his friends. That necklace was definitely way out of your price range. "You don't need to buy me anything."

"I want to, it was pretty." He grins, awaiting Gyuvins reaction in his prerifrial vision.

You quirk your head to the side. "I'm sure it was."

"Just like you." Ricky continues as he sees his friend gritting his teeth in the seat across from him. Ricky knew what he was doing, but he was tired of seeing you two run around in circles with each other. He just wanted to just nudge you two in the right direction, or so help him.

Now, Gyuvin could handle everything else. The other boys were just being friendly, he knows they meant well. But his notably attractive supposed best friend directly flirting with you in front of him?

Yeah, that was a no go.

Everyone else at the table grew quiet, knowing Ricky was treading into dangerous territory. Sure, they were a little overbearing at times but even they knew of the unspoken rules pertaining to you. It was known that you were off-limits, a rule set specifically by Gyuvin.

Your face heats up slightly as you stammer for a response, "O-oh.. well.. I think.."

Gyuvin stands, making a commotion as he does so, the noise of his chair scraping the ground enough to call everyone's attention. He turns to you, "Can I talk to you outside?"

You look to Ricky and then back to Gyuvin, unsure of what you should do. But you ultimately know better, "Yeah."

You follow Gyuvin to the balcony, him shutting the curtains away from the prying eyes of his friends as he slid the door closed, at least he knows they can't hear him out here.

He holds the railing, pretending to be entertained as he watches the cars below pass. He doesn't know what to say.

You shift on your feet, waiting for him to speak. You knew when your friend was angry, you just didn't know why.

"Did I do something?" You break the silence.

Gyuvin can't hold it in anymore, he changes the subject. "What are we?"

Your brows furrow as you look taken aback. "What are you talking about? You say it all the time, we're friends."

His lips press into a thin line before he admits, "I don't think friends get jealous over their friend like I do."

"What?" You lean closer. "Jealous?"

"Yes," He maintains, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "I'm jealous seeing the boys crowd around you! Or Jiwoong taking all your attention with some stupid pictures on his phone! Or Hao being able to play your favorite song for you!"

You look down. "Gyuvin-"

"Please just listen," He breathes in, afraid of what you might say. "I did walk out to greet you today, but you looked so busy with them that I felt like you didn't even notice me missing."

You lay your hand over his, encompassing it as he holds the railing. "You know what I was thinking the entire time they were talking to me?"

He shakes his head, willing his hands not to tremble under your touch. "What?"

"I was wondering where you were." You reveal, averting your eyes. "You're my best friend Gyuvin, I'll always look for you."

There it is, that ugly feeling in his stomach again.

"And that's all I'll ever be?"

You're shocked. "What're you trying to say?"

He cuts you off from asking anything further as he blurts out information he hadn't even had time to process yet. "I think I like you."

You stand straighter, still unable to look him in the eye. "You do?"

"I don't want you to go to the movies with Taerae or Gunwook, I want you to go with me! I should be the one buying you gifts, not Ricky!" He raises his voice a little in frustration as he recalls earlier.

The immediate clarity washes over him as he realizes he's out of line. "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry. I know we're not exclusive and I have no right-"

You cut him off from his ramblings with a kiss, lips crashing into each other with an all too familiar feeling. Except this time, it's not just lust taking over, it's something different. And you don't want it to stop.

You run your hands through his hair and pull him closer, if that's even possible, and deepen the kiss. Gyuvin's beyond surprised because if there was one thing you didn't do — it was kiss.

He can recall all the times you would be fumbling with his shirt as you tried to pull it off, and he would try to catch your lips in his, only for you to abruptly pull back and refuse. Friends don't kiss, you had said.

He really hoped this meant what he thought it did.

You gently release him from the kiss, cheeks flushed as you point inside. "Not here, let's go to your room."

"We can't go inside, everyone will hear." He reminds you before teasing. "And you're never very quiet."

You roll your eyes as you snark, "Yeah well you aren't exactly a silent mouse either."

He laughs under his breath before it dawns on him. "My car?"

You snap your head towards him as you look unconvinced. He's about to suggest something else when you grab his hand while shrugging. "Your car it is."

You drag him inside, running past a table of prying and confusing eyes, who's calls for your names you ignore, and yank his keys off the hook. You two bolt out the front door, and could the elevator be any slower?

Finally, you reach his car and climb into the backseat.

You immediately pull him onto you, wanting to kiss him until you couldn't breathe anymore. He was making you dizzy, you needed him more than ever.

He felt the exact same way, revealing in you as he was content on just kissing. His body betrays him though, your clothed cunt laid directly beneath his dick now, and suddenly he's grinding with such vigor despite the fact that you had only just began.

You break the kiss before you whisper, “Do you have a condom?”

His eyes widen, "Y-yeah, in the center console."

You wait as he just stares at you, you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little awkward. "Well I'm a little stuck here so-"

He snaps into it before digging through and retrieving one. "Right! Right.."

You smile a little at his antics, you were horribly whipped. Though he doesn't take his pants off immediately, instead opting to pocket the condom. He fumbles with his hands a little nervously, "Do you think I can eat you out first?"

"What?" You stammer. Sure, he had done it many times before, but he never been this nervous. There's something so whiny in his tone, like he needs it more than you do. So you oblige, "Alright."

He lights up at that. "Lean back."

You had never been eaten out this way before, usually Gyuvin was grabbing you to sit on his face, to which usually ended up in you teasing and grinding on it. 

But he has no qualms about it, as he dives right into laying his tongue against your heat. He teases for a bit, running it over your clit before you buck up your hips in protest. “Please Gyuvin, just make me feel good, no one can like you.” 

His pupils blow wide. "Fuck, yes baby."

Then he gets to work, tongue entering you as you swear you start to see stars. He doesn't let up, burying his face between your legs as he holds them down on either side of the small car seats.

He's leaving marks on your thighs from how hard he grips them as leverage. He's swirling his tongue around your swollen nub, taking in the taste of you.

You gasp out in pleasure, hips slightly bucking but your strength is nothing against Gyuvins. You're lost in pleasure, but you miss him though, you want to see your pretty boys face. You want him to kiss you again.

"Feels so good," You moan out, tears pricking your eyes.

"You taste even better." He mumbles against your clit. "Love that I get to have you like this, who is this for? Please just say it's for me."

You nod, before remembering he can't see you. "You! Haah- only you!"

He speeds up, slurping you with determination you had never seen before. You grab around, unable to really see due to teary eyes, and attempt to pull at his hair. "Wait, wait."

He lifts his head up, "What happened?"

"I-I wanna.. see you," You babble, "Wanna see you, Gyuvin."

His heart thumps at that, you wanted to look at him? He crawls towards your face as he pulls you into another sloppy kiss, mouths sliding in motion as you can taste yourself on him.

You can also feel his dick poking at your leg, begging to be freed from its constraints. So you lean your hand down and press on it, while he lets out a strained, "Oh - shit - feels so good."

He trembles at your touch, unconsciously bucking his hips into your leg. You tap him, "Can you take your pants off?"

He nods, almost humorous in the way he throws his bottoms off. You sit up as he does too, and push him back against the seat. He still has his underwear on, so you draw your finger around the waistband of it.

You rub him through the material, watching as his face contorts in pleasure and he lets out stagnant whines. He wants more, but above all, he wants to be good for you. "Please touch me, please use me."

You can't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Gyuvin was always more leaning on the soft dominant side, never had he begged for you like this so shamelessly.

He doesn't stop there, even after you slide your hand below. "I want you to fuck me so badly, I can be good for you! You won't need anyone but me- fuck - agh!"

You graze the tip with your thumb before you start pumping him slowly, his plush lips parting as he moans. You can feel your wetness gathering even more simply at the noises he lets out, and you know you need him just as bad as he needs you.

"You look so good like this," You admit, wanting to tease him a little. "So cute with my hand wrapped around your swollen fat dick."

"Please, don't talk like that," His face flushes as he whines at your vulgar choice of words.

"Why not?" You play innocent, fluttering your eyelashes.

He turns away in an attempt to hide his face, but you still hear what he says loud and clear. "I don't want to cum in my pants."

You smile, quirking your head the side. "What if I want you to?"

"Then I wouldn't be able to fuck you," He mumbles as he bites his lip, though he looks like he'd give into your wish if you kept asking.

You perk up at his eagerness. "So I can't put your dick in my mouth?"

His eyes widen in protest, "N-No!"

"Shh," You speak as you lean into his ear, hand still moving as you suppress a giggle at him getting so worked up. "Where's the condom?"

He stiffs up at that, looking around for his pants as you remove your hand. He hurriedly rips open the package once he pulls it out of his discarded jean's pockets, and fumbles with his hands as he slides it on.

You move to lay down on the seats, Gyuvin craning his neck as he hovers over you. His length prodding at your entrance before you knew it. His tip running over your folds in hesitance.

It was far from the first time you've both done this, but he felt ten times more nervous than he ever has. And maybe a bit more appreciative. He winces, "I can't believe I get to fuck you."

You look him in the eye, finding his statement a little amusing. "What?"

"You're just so pretty," He mutters, and he avoids your eyes. "I always get scared that one day you'll decide you think one my friends is hotter, and just decide to stop talking to me."

Your face turns soft as his sudden vulnerability, even if he was about to rearrange your guts. "Trust me, that never would've happened."

"Really?"

"I kissed you back there because I like you Gyuvin." You confirm, the moment feeling so warm despite your lack of clothes. "I never thought I'd be with anyone but you."

He doesn't respond as he slowly slides into you, trying his best not to rut into you. He was holding back a lot tonight, he wanted to show you how much he cared. You couldn't help but feel this was romantic as well, even if it was inside a cramped car.

His eyes can't help but drift down, watching as your walls sucked him in perfectly. He lets out a soft, shattered gasp as you clench him when he finally bottoms out. "Mmm, you always take me so well."

You cry out a little before slurring out his name like a mantra. "Gyuvin, move, please move, fuck - I need you to move."

He moves back a little before he thrusts into you, hands intertwining with yours as he starts to pound into you faster. You weep, lost in pleasure as his tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly.

He can't help but let his emotions in again, "I hate how they look at you. Want to tell them you're all mine but-"

"I'm yours!" You gasp, squeezing his hand as it becomes too much. He's fucking you so deep that you can feel him in your stomach, and you're sure the bulge is visible.

He stops in his tracks, and you're scared you said something wrong. Before you voice it, he cuts you off. "Say it again."

You breathe, confused almost before you realize. You look him in the eyes as you repeat it. "I'm yours."

"Shit," His face flushes as he looks down. "I just came."

"From that?!" You raise your brows, this was unlike him. Never has he came this fast, and the embarrassment was about to settle in.

You're so in love, you don't even care. "Well-"

You're unable to say anything else as he thrusts back into you, catching you off guard. He trembling as he continues, "W-want you to-"

You shake your head, unable to fathom how he's even still hard. His stutter tells you he's sensitive though. "I don't need to."

"But I need it," He whispers lowly. "Need you to cream on my cock."

You can barely process his words as you grab his hand in yours, "Show me how bad you need it."

Gyuvin almost dies from shock. He feels he must've died already with how you treat him so heavenly. So he doesn't stop, pushing himself to the point over overstimulation as he shakes. Nothing you say could stop him now, he was too far gone into you.

"Can't believe you decided to choose me," He rambles as your bodies meld together. "I don't deserve it."

You feel yourself start to tear up, unsure if its from your feelings or from the intense pounding you're getting. Your eyes well up nonetheless, "I'd choose you every time."

He cranes his head into the crook of your neck as his pace never falters, sighing as he kisses away your tears. "As your friend?"

You borderline laugh, sniffling as you do. "Don't be stupid, I don't think we were ever just friends."

He thrusts into you one final time before you're crying out from pleasure, your orgasm running over you. You intertwine your hand with his as you pull him closer. He whispers you through it, telling you an endless string of I-love-you's with baited breath.

Yeah, you two were not friends.

[222col]

coffee

★ art donaldson x reader ★ inspired by 'coffee' by chappell roan ★ 0.6k ★ 18+ | cw: angst, adult themes

art: hey, long time no speak, wanna grab a drink?

you wish you could resist, wish you'd already blocked his number. you broke up nearly a year ago, you'd met him a few times since, and it always ends the same way. you crying, him comforting you all the way back to his apartment then kicking you out the next morning. it's a repetitive cycle, one that you're not strong enough to break.

you: coffee?

coffee is safer, if you drink, you know where it leads. nowhere else is safe. you hate that you're stuck in his grip, unable to escape the delusions that fill your mind the second those blonde locks appear in front of you.

art: meet me at the jazz bar, 7pm? the one on mary ann street

ignored, your requests, your pleadings, always ignored. he knows you like the back of his hand, knows you can't resist him. he's already there when you arrive, a couple drinks in. a glass of wine waiting for you on the table accompanied by the flirty smile on his face. "hey sweet girl." you drink and catch up and tell each other lies. "i want you, come home to me." art pleads, after his fourth glass of wine. if you didn't still love him, still trust him and his intentions, you'd be fine. you wouldn't end up back at his apartment again. but you do, so your hand links through his as you walk back to his place.

"my girl, my perfect girl." you can smell the wine of his breath as he pushes you through the door of his apartment. the pictures of you are gone. you're kissing your way to the bedroom, he's got new sheets. you don't exist here anymore, you're not a part of his new life. he's moved on, well moved on enough to remove you from his home. there isn't a piece of you left here. you're almost crying into the kiss as art pushes you onto the mattress.

you: hey, wanna grab dinner?

you'll never know what kind of magic spell this boy has over you, one that makes you drop all your morals and defence mechanisms to run to him.

art: let's do the park, meet you there at sunset

the text shows any ideas of a normal conversation flying out the window. but you'd rather feel something, than nothing at all. you meet him at your favourite tree, tasting the alcohol on his tongue as his mouth crashes into yours. always excusing his behaviour, telling yourself he loves you. feeding your delusions, at least he wants to see you, feel you, taste you. "i'm sorry baby, don't cry, want you." he whispers into your ear, as his hand slips into your jeans.

art: let's grab coffee?

art was your reason to live, to cry, to love. but it wasn't healthy, you knew it and he abused it. knew he could get anything he wanted from you, knew you'd do anything he asked of you. the memories come flooding back. sat in front of him on the couch as he plaits your hair, dancing the night away at bars, watching him on the courts. looking up the tennis channel on tv, seeing art's face plastered over the screen. those curly blonde hairs, that you used to wash the shampoo out of. those big blue eyes, that used to tell you they loved you. those little dimples you used to kiss every time he got shy when you complimented him. art taught you how to love, how to care. a single tear dropping onto the phone as you text him back.

you: it's better if we don't try, it's never just coffee

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 13 - "Come with me, hurry."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

Duke didn't know what was happening anymore right now. All he knew was that it had started with simply wanting to help someone. Or rather even sooner, with having been forcefully paired up with the new transfer student that everyone for some reason avoided.

The new transfer student, Danny Nightingale, had joined his class around mid semester, he wore a lot of apparently customized -as he later learned- ghost themed accessories. Somehow he got away with it without constantly getting sent to the principal for violating school uniform guidelines. Partially Duke believes that the teachers just gave up after the first week.

Aside from that the first time Duke had even seen the guy, for a short moment he thought that he had looked directly into the sun but then a second later his vision was back to normal like nothing happened but the transfer was staring at him with an eyebrow raised. They had stared at each other for a long time and Duke was sure that right then and there they both had noticed each other's possible Meta status.

But nothing strange had happened after that for a little while, well major really. Minor things kept happing and Duke was convinced that the guy had to be a Meta. The strange little incidence of things going missing but reappearing the next day, utilize or tool appear in the others hand like out of nowhere, the guy suddenly leaving class without explanation, well sometimes at least asking to get excused but still leaving even if their teacher said no or the bouts of green light Duke occasionally caught around the guy.

This transfer student had to be a Meta. Duke had no problem with it, in fact he was kind of happy to find that one of his classmates was a Meta. He just didn't know how to bring it up to him. Considering that most Metas in Gotham lived in hiding and fear, he knew he couldn't just go, walk up to the guy and bluntly ask if he was a fellow Meta.

So after a little discussion with his siblings, Duke decided he would just keep an eye out for his classmate. Trying to complete the friendship route first before and hoping that this way Danny would open up to him. So for now he was making sure the other stayed safe and all that, Duke had even asked his siblings if he should tell Bruce about his Meta classmate just in case but they had told him that as long as nothing major happens to the kid it should be enough for them to keep an eye out.

The friendship route was going great in Duke opinion. Well that was until he got partnered up with him for a group project. Duke really wanted to say that working together with Danny on the project was making it so much easier to connect with the other aside from just joining him during lunch break or trying to strike up a conversation before classes. But the or their group was not making it easier, in fact, Duke got the feeling they tried to actively exclude Danny if it weren't from him.

The day when they all met in the library made it even more obvious. Danny hadn't even known they were meeting up to work on it until Duke texted him asking where he was. He gave the other the best Damian Glare impression he could muster up when he found out and then a Jason death glare impression when they found excuses to leave once he called Danny over when he saw him walking through the library doors.

"Duke, it's fine real. I always have been one of the odd ones out." Duke had definitely not been fine with it when Danny had played it off, especially when he offhandedly mentioned that he got bullied before. Well at least Danny was enjoying his time with Duke, plus Danny was a genius, especially in all the science and engineering subjects. If their idiot group mates wanted to pass up on an A+ with extra credits then it was solely their fault for being judgmental.

Duke had gotten to the point that Danny had even agreed to come with him to the Manor to hang out once, all he now needed to do was clear it with Bruce and make sure that his noisy siblings weren't going to freak Danny out.

He was just about to call Bruce up to see if it was fine when the doors of the library were kicked in by people dressed completely in white carrying deceives that looked like scanners. He was just about to comment to Danny what weird people they seemed to be when he noticed Danny had pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head and for the lack of better words looked frightened.

Duke had only locked once between Danny, and these weird guys before deciding what he needed to do. He shot a quick look towards Babs who was working the library counter and looked about ready to have them kicked out. Duke signaled her, while also shooting off a message into the group chat with the others.

"Danny." His newly made friend had his back turned to the door and looked like he was trying to find an escape route. Duke frowned at the way Danny flinched when he placed a hand on the other's shoulder. Whoever these guys were, Danny was afraid of them or had some sort of trauma and Duke would bet his entire comic collection on the fact that it has something to do with Danny being a Meta. "It's okay, trust me. They won't get you."

"What?" Glowing green eyes peeked at him from under Danny's hood, he clearly remembers them to be blue.

"They won't get you. I promise." Duke repeated, ignoring the color change for now. By now Barbara was trying to get these people out of her library but these people continued to yell something about ecto-entities and those some papers at her. They were advancing into the building and Duke could see that Danny's flight reflex was going to break out soon.

Duke made a brief eye contact with Barbara. She nodded.

"Come with me, hurry." Was the only warning he gave Danny before he grabbed the other's hand and dragged him to the back of the building, towards the hidden doors.

"What are you doing?!" Danny sounded so confused and Duke looked over his shoulder hoping he was giving the other a reassuring smile.

"Helping you!"

"But I am not-"

"These guys are after you right? Let's get away from them first and then talk!" Duke cut him off pushing Danny through a hidden way into an underground path.

"You don't even know me and-"

"I don't need to know you, to see when someone needs help."

He could see that Danny clearly wanted to say something, there was still fear in these still glowing green eyes and Duke wondered once more what these people must have done to Danny for the other Meta to be scared like this. Danny needed to know that they wouldn't get to him as long as Duke and his family were around. He was going to be protected and be able to live normally without fear of these people showing up to hunt him for his powers.

"Meta's gotta stick together. Don't worry I will make sure you're safe!" This wasn't how he had hoped to open up this topic with Danny. He had wanted Danny to bring it up naturally once they had gotten to be really good friends. So that Duke could let him know he wasn't alone.