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tremendouscreationperson · 8 months ago

Text

A little fic based off of this

Whenever I write an X Reader it's usually for chubby!reader but it's actually a plot point in this one

Chubby/bullied!reader x stan

You, Ford, Caryn and Filbrick sat in the front row.

Stan had a big fight tonight, the only reason his father came, and you were nervously tapping your leg. His opponent, Godfrey Davies, was bigger and looked meaner but you knew Stan could potentially pull it off.

The two entered the ring and Stan gave you a cheeky wink before his eyes caught his father. His whole expression changed when he clocked Filbrick.

"He better win." Ford commented.

You knew what Ford was implying. If Stan lost in front of his dad he would be crushed. And Filbrick was the type of man who would leave if he was bored so Stan would also have to put on a good show.

The two touched gloves and the bell rang.

You weren't a huge boxing fan but wouldn't deny the rush a match gave you. The adrenaline of the room coursed through your veins as each punch landed. Godfrey was strong, he had hit Stan's stomach a few times but Stan was quick enough to dodge any major strikes.

Godfrey managed to land a blow against Stan's cheek and your hand grasped Fords.

You glanced at Ford as an excuse to spy on Filbrick but the man gave nothing away. Merely enjoying? the show.

In the split second your eyes were off of Stan, he had managed to gain the upper hand with a series of quick jabs against Godfrey's right side.

"He's hurt him." Ford informed you. "See the twitch."

You followed his fingers, unable to see the twitch, alas you trusted Ford's intelligence. If Ford said Stan hurt him then he hurt him.

The two danced around each other for the remainder of the round, there was a soft tap here and a dodge there but otherwise it was quiet.

The next round was similar. There were the odd moments of carnal violence sprinkled in between their dance but it was the third round that mattered.

As Stan took a sip of water, he turned in your direction, his pale skin beginning to pinken as it swelled up. He gave you all a sloppy smirk and when the bell rang again, there was a new fire in him.

Stan kept low and stayed with defence until Godfrey tired himself out - punching ludicrously hard against Stan's forearm block - and just when Godfrey stopped to pant, Stan whacked him with an uppercut.

Godfrey stumbled backwards, wobbling on his feet. Stan was on him in an instant punching him in the face and forcing the man to the floor.

The ref called it and everyone cheered.

He had won!

This was a big deal.

He could now fight in a higher tier.

This was really good news!

You released Ford from your hug and he ran over to his twin. The boys embraced, clapping each other's backs, grinning from ear to ear.

Caryn was next, she slipped in the hug, squeezing her babies tight. You knew she said a cheesy joke along the lines of 'I didn't need a crystal ball to know you'd win' because the twins rolled their eyes in sync but there was no real malice behind the gesture.

Filbrick finally made his move: a pat on the shoulder. You knew it meant the world to Stan. He deserved it. He really did. He was glorious.

A photographer worked his way into the ring and told the family to smile but Stan stopped the photo.

"Wait, where's Y/N?" His eyes scanned the crowd that had formed, swarming the ring side. He had a lot of groupies, unsurprisingly. People loved a big strong man and it didn't hurt that he looked like that.

They landed on you and you smiled, waving awkwardly as he gestured for you to join them. The room was noisy and people were still cheering, drinks being drunk, music blaring so he didn't hear your reply. You tried to call out again but in the end shook your head, sheepishly.

It was his moment. He needed this. To be in a photo with his family. He could frame it.

Besides, you'd only ruin it.

You weren't exactly pretty.

A fact that everyone had relentlessly told you at school.

The only reason you were still alive was Stan and Ford's friendship, otherwise you'd have had to fight the onslaught of insults alone and you really didn't think you were strong enough for that.

Stan frowned momentarily before forcing a smile for the photo.

"Doll face?" You were sitting in your garden, on the swing your dad had made, reading the Lord of the Rings. Turning your head you found Stan. He was standing next to you, hands in pockets. He had bruises on his cheek and a split lip you hadn't noticed at the time.

"Hi." You smiled up, closing the book. "How'd's it feel to be a winner?"

Stan chuckled, plonking down on the swing next to you. Your dad had to install another when you eventually made friends. "'little sore."

"I bet you don't feel it because your dad was proud of you." You mock punched his arm. "He really was."

Stan swivelled on the swing, the rope twisting together as he spun around.

You suspected he had something to say so kept quiet until he found the words.

Stan let go, spinning until he was back in the correct place.

"You know you're gorgeous right?" The words tumbled out.

They took you aback. You hadn't ever thought those words would come out of his mouth. "Pardon?"

He let out a shaky breath, gazing up at the sky. "You're really pretty. I don't know why Jorgie and her gang tell you otherwise. Like a damn movie star."

Where had this come from? "Wh-"

"The photo." He answered without needing the question. "I wish you were in it."

You didn't know what to say or how to respond. The only thing you could think to do was shyly smile and reach for his hand.

"Filbrick, that's Y/N." You overheard Caryn whisper to her husband. They were in the Kitchen where you were planning on getting a drink. "She comes over all the time."

He huffed.

Did-did he not know who you were?

You were here every other day.

Hell, you once made the man dinner!

Caryn had been sick and the boys were useless so you came around and rustled up some grub for the four of them.

That was insulting.

"The fat one?" He questioned.

Fat?

Were you fat?

You glanced down at yourself, you could see your toes but maybe not as much as you should be able to?

"She's no-well, it doesn't matter. She's good for Stan..and Ford. Keeps them sane."

Caryn thought you were fat too?

You stepped away carefully, avoiding the spots in the wood that creaked, and nestled yourself back into the boys room. Settling next to Stan in his bed as they argued about nothing important.

You'd declined every offer Stan made to go out. You didn't want to look like you were avoiding him but his parents thought you were fat and that had shaken your self image.

You were obviously not thin in the mirror and people at school called you fat and ugly all the time. So much that part of you believed it and part of you brushed it off but to hear it from them... From people you trusted...

You knew you were nothing great to look at. Stan being sweet was just him trying to comfort you, you probably embarrassed them.

In an effort to beautify yourself, your evenings were spent jogging mostly. It was awful and you hated it but you made sure to do it before dinner or you wouldn't eat.

"Oit." A voice called, you spun to see Stan running to catch up.

"Hey."

"What're we doing?" He fell into pace with you.

"Jogging." You offered.

"Har, har." He playfully shoved you. "Why are we jogging? It's the worst."

Your face split into a grin, loving how in sync the two of you were. "It really is! I hate it."

When you both rounded the corner, he repeated himself. "C'mon what are we doing?"

"Trying to lose weight." You answered.

"W-why?" Your reply had caught him completely off guard that he faltered. Stan had to speed up to match your pace again. "You don't need to."

A dark chuckle left you without your consent. "I heard someone talking-"

"Ignore the girls at school." He interrupted.

"It wasn't-" Jogging and talking was hard. "It was someone whose opinion I'd hate to admit I trust. They said it straight."

Stan made a face but didn't argue. He would let you win this round and later convince you to come to the diner and get a thick shake. He knew you weren't fat. Well, maybe you were but not in a bad way! You looked amazing! The meat on your bones was in all the right places. More to love like platonically.

Eventually the two of you came to a stop outside your house.

"I don't think jeans were designed for running." Stan tried to pry the fabric off his thigh.

"I'd never blame you, beautiful." He folded his arms. "Now, who do I have to beat up?"

You giggled. "Don't blame me. I didn't ask you to join me."

"No one." Your eyes rolled automatically.

"Hey, don't do that."

"I'm not doing anyth-"

Stan closed the distance, cupping your cheeks in his palms, forcing eye contact. "Tell me. 'cause you're perfect."

Why had he decided to be all sweet and flirty recently? He did know you were the butt of every joke, right? Like everyone else, he was well aware that boys would ask you out as a prank. Was this one? No, not your Stan.

Well he wasn't your Stan.

"Earth to Y/N." He manipulated your head, swaying it gently side to side.

"Huh?"

"Who called you fat?"

The words seemed to leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. Your mind hadn't even registered properly and they were released into the world. "Your parents."

The neutral expression morphed into anger. Stan's brows pulled as his pupils shrunk. A twitch occurred in his jaw. "My dad?"

"Your mom, too." You shrugged. "It's nothing massive, it's actually helpful. Now I know it's true I can-"

"No." He shook his head. "No, it's not. It's mean." Stan placed his forehead against yours and took in a breath. "When I say you are perfect, believe it. Don't change anything. Please, doll."

The new few months played out in the usual fashion. You'd go to school, then theirs, they'd come to yours, the three of you would worry about test results, studying was tricky when the boys were helping - they always got off topic. It didn't take long before all the exams were finished and the school year was coming to a close meaning prom.

You and the twins went together. None of you officially had dates but that didn't matter because it was always you three vs the world.

A triangle was the strongest shape after all.

You arrived at the Pines house on time, barely giving the door a knock before it swung open. Stan was quick to exit and pulled you towards the car.

He didn't look back, settling you into the passenger seat as he rounded the car to the driver's.

"Stan?" You glanced at the front door. "Everything okay?" Caryn had begged you to come in and take photos less than a week ago. Maybe Stan knew you were embarrassed or maybe he was going back on his words... Maybe he was embarrassed of you.

Stan gave you a curt nod, his palms tightening in the steering wheel. You watched the knuckles whiten on his left hand before his right caught your gaze. There was blood on them.

Why was there blood on his knuckles?!

"Where's Ford?"

As if on cue Ford left the house, closing the door behind him and strode towards the car.

He slipped into the backseat and gave you a sheepish smile.

The car journey was blessedly short and weird to say the least.

You distracted yourself with the radio.

At school you took the obligatory "couple" photo. You stood between the boys arm in arm. Even if it was fake, it was the first time Stan smiled tonight.

You were led to the gym - they had dressed it up for a party but it was still just your school gym - and found a spot to stand and people watch.

Ford attempted to make small talk with others but he wasn't hugely successful, coming back each time with an 'aww shucks'. At least he didn't have punch thrown at him. Silver linings and all that, hey?

Stan was still being strange so you let him be. Sometimes he went quiet when he was thinking too hard. You hoped he was able to at least enjoy a bit of the evening.

He had just excused himself to use the toilet when Ford sprinted back to your side. "Finally!"

"What?!"

"He punched dad." Ford whispered.

Huh, it sounded like Ford told you Stan had punched Filbrick but that would be insane. "Care to run that by me again?"

"Dad said something and Stan shouted before he just socked him. It was intense. Dad then shook his hand!"

What?!

"Wait, I don't get it." You frowned. "Your dad's been an asshole for years, what made Stan snap?"

Ford shrugged but you knew he knew. Why wasn't he telling you? "Ask him."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just ask Stan 'why'd you finally decide to whack your dad?' Think about it for more than two seconds!"

Ford's eyes slipped over your shoulder and he nodded minutely. Stan was back in the room.

Your eyes immediately found his knuckles, they weren't bloodied but even from here you could see the slight pink hue. You turned to ask Ford something only to find he had disappeared again.

Stan made his way through the dancefloor and stopped by your side.

After Ford's confession the silence was maddening. You needed to ask why but how do you go about it? How do you just ask him? And his dad shook his hand? Was that a goodbye? Was Stan being kicked out? No, Filbrick wasn't that cruel.

"Fancy a dance?" You offered. Stan looked at you and then the crowd, unease splattered throughout his expression. "We don't have to."

"It is a dance, though." He commented. "Just- there's a lot of people."

"It's okay." You brushed him off. It wasn't a massive deal, you didn't have to dance at a dance.

"There wasn't anyone in the corridor by Mr Tymeh's. Could still hear the music." He didn't outright ask you but you'd been friends long enough to read between the lines.

"Lead the way."

The two of you left the gym and wandered past the toilets to the small 'office' Mr Tymeh ate his lunch and moaned at the less athletic students in.

Stan was right, you could hear the music from here and the corridor was empty.

"Wanna do this then?" He asked, making zero eye contact.

"Stan, we don't have to if yo-" You were unable to finish the sentence because he pulled you close, hands on your waist, and swayed.

Your hands met his shoulders and you let him move the two of you back and forth. The song wasn't meant for slow swaying but this half-dance was really sweet so you weren't going to complain.

"I like your suit." You brushed your fingers along his collar.

"Thanks, got mine and Fords for the price of one." He smirked cockily. "You, uh, you look beautiful as ever. That colour's real pretty."

You didn't give the compliment to get one, hopefully he knew that!! Yet it was sweet hearing the words. Choosing the colour was very hard, you didn't want to look good for everyone else, you wanted to feel good for yourself and when you finally decided what you were wearing you did feel good.

Maybe tonight you'd believe Stan's words.

Believe you were pretty passable.

Your brain was getting too distracting so you softly asked, "what happened to your hand?"

"Some schmuck." He shrugged. "No one important."

You pulled his hand from your hip and frowned at the knuckles. "That's not what Ford said."

Stan groaned. "That fucker."

"Are you alright?"

He looked into your eyes before nodding. "Yeah."

"Gonna tell me about it?" You raised a brow.

"He was just being an asshole." There was more to the story. There had to be. Filbrick had been an asshole for years and Stan hadn't snapped, so why now? Stan saw the confusion in your face and elaborated. "He made comments about you."

Your frown deepened. "You hit your dad for me?" You were not worth that. Why the fuck would he-

"Course I did." Stan paused. "He can say what he wants about me but not you." His eyes flickered to your opening mouth. "It was strange, he patted me on the back and shook my hand after. Proud of me for standing up I guess."

@nyx-universe @aceistheplace86

#stanford pines #stanley pines #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stan pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines x you #gravity falls #ford and stan #stan and ford #chubby!reader

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breakmeoff · 7 days ago

Text

The Boy Next Door │5

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, suggestive dialogue, crack, lots of fluff, reader being dumb

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: chris is not giving up easily and has no problem embarrassing himself, or you, along the way.

note: i really enjoyed writing this part, mostly because of the obnoxious way chris is trying to get reader's attention. no crazy declarations have been made yet, but things are moving in the right direction. thx for reading :)

Masterlist

“Who are you looking for? Oh, Y/N? She’s over here…” you overheard from the hallway outside of your office.

Leaning back from your desk, you angled your chair to get a look out when one of your coworkers, Willa, came in followed by a delivery man holding a giant basket.

“What’s all this…?” you asked, pushing up from your chair as you rounded the corner of your desk.

“Y/N L/N?,” the delivery man asked, checking his tablet. “Yes…” you said hesitantly, trying to see past the opaque tissue paper blocking the contents inside.

“Sign here please,” he replied, shoving his tablet to you. Taking it from him, you scribbled your name and handed it back, exchanging inquisitive glances with your friend who was now leaning against the wall by the door.

“Whatcha got there?” Willa asked, tipping her head to the basket as the delivery man walked out. Untying the card from the handle of the basket, you smirked before replying. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend because otherwise I would tell you it’s none of your damn business…”

“Hmm, well, lucky for me I am your bestie. Open it!”

“Alright alright,” you mumbled, placing the unread card on the desk before you started pulling the tissue paper out to reveal the contents.

“Are… are those cucumbers?” Willa exclaimed, stepping forward to pick up one of the green fruits.

“I… uh…” your brows furrowed, extremely confused by the random gift. Quickly grabbing the card, you opened it and your jaw dropped reading the inscription.

For my cutecumber. - BC

Leaning over your shoulder to read the card, still holding the cucumber in her hand, Willa interrupted your thought, “who the hell is BC? And why are they sending you a basket of… OH MY GOD, YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEONE.”

Dropping the card and immediately putting your hand over your friend’s mouth, you hushed her immediately. “Shhh!!!!!!! Oh my god, Willa, what is wrong with you?”

Swiftly moving to your door to shut it closed, you shot a look of daggers at her like she had lost her mind. “Aren’t you our HR rep? I feel like you’re breaking like 5 violations right now,” you emphasized, motioning to the cucumber.

“In this office I’m just your nosey ass friend, who the hell is BC?” She asked, lightly hitting your arm with the cucumber, causing a laugh out of you as your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“And why is he sending you phallic shaped produce?”

—------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening back at your apartment, you climbed into bed with a book for the evening. After the chaos of the afternoon and desperately trying to pawn off cucumbers to anyone who walked by so you didn’t end up with 3 dozen on your own, you were exhausted.

Even though the gesture was embarrassing at hell, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. It was one of the most outlandish things you’d ever had anyone do for you, and the fact that it came from Chris made it even sweeter.

Glancing to your phone that was plugged in by the side of your bed, you nibbled your lower lip for a second in thought before dropping your book, and picking up the cell.

You: So do I give off the vibe that I don’t get enough greens in my diet? Chris: i’ll have you know that cucumbers are very good for hydration You: Oh, so now I look dehydrated? Chris: no one ever drinks enough water Chris: I’m really just trying to make sure you’re staying healthy Chris: and eating enough, obviously You: Hmm, well I think you’ve taken care of my produce intake for the next 6 months. Chris: you’re welcome Chris: I heard there was a cucumber shortage because of TikTok recently You: Thanks to you I’ll be able to gift everyone pickles for Christmas this year Chris: spoiler alert! You: Bold to assume you’d be getting any Chris: rude, I already have a list of things for you You: Haha. Seriously though - thank you. The gift was very sweet. You: Ridiculously bizarre, but sweet. Chris: glad to help You: Sleeping any better? Chris: like a baby actually Chris: it’s funny, some rando sent me a box of tea recently You: Wow, that's crazy!

A few minutes went by before he replied. It was early wherever he was, and you assumed he was likely getting ready for the day.

Chris: still would love to see you

You stared at the screen, that ever-familiar lump in your throat returning. With the frequency of inner conflict you were having lately, the feeling was becoming almost normal.

You: Yeah… hopefully we can make something happen sometime

The statement was vague enough to be non-committal, but possibly leave an ounce of hope lingering. Hope for who… at this point you weren’t sure.

Noting the time, Chris took a deep breath before he sent his final message for the evening.

Chris: sweet dreams y/n

“Night Chris…” you whispered to yourself, putting your phone down on the bedside table, and rolled over, covering yourself with the comforter as you tried to turn your overthinking brain off long enough to fall asleep.

—------------------------------------------------------

After the fifth day, and the fifth gift was delivered, you were almost afraid to come to work. It wasn’t because the other packages were quite as unhinged as the giant basket of cucumbers, it was just that people were starting to notice the frequency in which you were having things delivered.

It was getting to the point that you were dreading the 1pm hour when your new friend Henry from DHL was making a habit of showing up.

The day after the produce debacle, a long, thin flat cardboard box arrived and sat on your desk looking harmless. So harmless in fact that you just assumed it was something being shipped to you from one of the medical supply companies you occasionally worked with.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and started to unbox the item within. Reaching in, you pulled out another small card resting on top of the contents inside. That was when you realized that this was not from a vendor.

Cautiously opening it, you read:

Are you a hot pan? Because you’re sizzling. - BC

“Oh Lord…” you mumbled, placing the card aside and digging into the box. Once the baby pink heart shaped pan was in your hand, you sat there dumbfounded.

Day three, the box was more square in shape, and much lighter in weight. This card read:

You must be Australian, because you meet all of my Koalafications. - BC

Willa coincidentally was walking by your office, busy talking on her cell phone when she glanced in and saw you holding the adorable, soft koala stuffed animal in your hand. Doubling back, she quirked an eyebrow in your direction and laughed before walking back in the direction she was originally headed.

Day four was the strangest yet - a tooth shaped pencil holder with a card that read:

Are you a dentist? Because you made my jaw drop. - BC

The fifth gift was your favorite to date. Now placed right next to your monitor, a spot you knew you’d frequently see it, was a simple snow globe of the Eiffel Tower. The inscription on this card started to melt your stubbornness a tiny bit more.

Are you sure you’re not French? Because Eiffel for you. - BC

Willa walked in just as you lifted the snow globe to give it another shake, watching the delicate sparkles swirl around in the glass before you put it gently back down.

“So, are we going to talk about this mysterious BC yet or are we just going to pretend that you don’t have a secret admirer?” Willa asked, leaning against the door frame with a knowing smirk.

Breaking you out of your reverie, you turned towards her and tried to dismiss her theories though the betrayal of your blush was giving you away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ok, cool, we’re choosing denial still.” Your friend laughed, moving over to one of the chairs in front of your desk and clapped her hands on her knees as she sat down. “Are we still on for yoga Saturday? This new studio I found is right next to the cutest brunch restaurant and if I get enough mimosas in your system then maybe you’ll start talking.”

Ignoring the second portion of her statement with a half smile, you nodded your head and leaned back in your chair. “Yes, yoga on Saturday.”

—------------------------------------------------------

Three more work days passed and three more flirty gifts were delivered and you had never been more relieved for the weekend and a break from prying eyes and nosey coworkers.

Somehow you’d pacified Willa’s nagging questions at brunch, giving her some half-truth about a guy you met while in Japan and how he was trying to get you to go out with him. Eventually after your yin yoga session and two mimosas, you were wandering your way back up to your apartment.

Dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and dark mauve colored sports bra, you stepped out of the elevator, readjusted the rolled up yoga mat tucked under your arm and started to take a sip out of your water bottle when you rounded the corner.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you started choking when your eyes fell on the person standing right outside your apartment door.

Chris turned around immediately hearing the noise, and swiftly put something down by the door before he ran over to you and began patting your back. “Shit, are you ok?” He asked, concerned.

After coughing for a few seconds, you began nodding your head as your breathing started to regulate again, your eyes shifting up to his in disbelief.

“Wrong tube…” you mumbled.

“Hate when that happens…” Chris laughed, straightening back up, still lightly rubbing your back in a soothing manner.

“Yeah… what are you doing here?” You asked, finally addressing the situation.

“Well,” Chris sighed, “I hadn’t heard anything from you since the cucumber delivery and I had to come make sure you hadn’t died of a Vitamin K overdose. Everything in moderation you know.”

Still frozen in the moment, you blinked at him. “...uh huh.”

“That and I really wanted to try out your new pan. The reviews on it were really highly rated and said they made the best pancakes…”

“Wait, I thought you were supposed to be at your parents house?”

“I was…”

“And now you’re here…” you mumbled the obvious.

He laughed shortly, nodding his head as he dipped his head down in slight embarrassment. “And now I’m here…”

"Asking me to make you pancakes..."

"Ideally tomorrow morning, yes."

Your jaw fell slack, unable to come up with a reply as he interrupted your thoughts.

“Oh!” He said, just remembering what he had placed beside your door. Turning to grab the large bouquet of roses, he picked them up and took the few steps back to you, offering them to you sheepishly. “And I brought you flowers…” Chris said, looking somewhat proud of himself.

Gingerly, you reached forward to take them from him. “Thank you.. you really didn’t need to do that,” you said softly, unable to stop the smile that formed on your lips.

"Do... you want to come in?"

Chris chuckled, nodding his head. "Unless you're more comfortable just hanging out here in the hall...?"

"No, sorry, dumb question..." you mumbled, walking past him with a shake of your head, fumbling with your keys. With the door now unlocked and opened, you let him follow you inside, finally registering the overnight bag he brought in with him.

Chris closed the door softly behind himself, quietly taking in your apartment and how he felt instantly that it was distinctly you. Dropping your yoga mat by the door, you kicked off your sandals and made your way to your kitchen in a daze.

The main living space was an open concept with a large modern kitchen, big bright windows, a cozy oversized sectional facing the large screen tv, and your desk space in one of the corners.

Everything from the paint on the cabinets, the luxe fabric of your couch and the accent colors of the artwork inside were all hand selected and curated by you. Chris loved every piece. They all felt like you.

Finding a vase to put the roses in, you silently stood in the kitchen, filling up the crystal vessel as you watched him take in your space. Having him here, in your sanctuary, was giving you more anxiety than you ever anticipated it might.

Chris stopped in front of one of your bookshelves, and bent over at the waist just slightly seeing a familiar framed photo. It was a picture of you, roughly about aged 17, sitting on the front steps of your dad's house with your parents on either side of you. It was the last photo the three of you had taken together before your parents split up.

Noticing where he had lingered, you cleared your throat and turned the faucet off, moving the vase to the center of your kitchen island where it could be seen from anywhere in the room.

Turning around, Chris slowly started walking over to you with his hands behind his back, nodding approvingly. "I like what you've done with the place. It's very cozy." Moving to one of the barstools on the opposite side of the island from where you stood, he pulled it out and sat down.

"Not that I'm not thrilled to see you," you began, shifting your weight on your feet, "but what are you doing here?"

"You know, I should ask you the same thing," Chris said with a playful raised eyebrow. "I thought you had a 'work function'."

"I..." your cheeks flashed a bright red, obviously caught in a lie.

"Y/N..." he mumbled, reaching both of his hands out across the counter to clasp one of yours in his own. "It's fine, I figured you were just nervous."

Looking down to your delicate hand sandwiched between his larger hands, then back up to his face, you sighed.

"I just don't know what you think is supposed to happen here," you admitted, searching his face for an answer.

"The only thing I know for sure that I want right now is for you to stop pushing me away."

"I'm not pushi--" you began before he squeezed your hand and interrupted you with a chuckle.

"Yes, you absolutely are trying to push me away. I know you well enough to know that you think me being here is a mistake."

You smirked, eyes shifting to the countertop between you. "Well, isn't it?"

"So far being here, seeing your beautiful, flustered face in person for 10 minutes has been the best decision I've made this month," he teased.

"Who knows you're here?," you asked softly. "Did... did you tell your parents where you were going?"

Chris shook his head once. "Nope, I just told them I couldn't stay as long as I initially thought. But my manager, Ji-han, knows I'm here."

Glancing over to his overnight bag, you motioned over to it. "How long are you planning to stay here...?"

His eyes followed you to his bag, grinned softly, and then looked back to you. "I figured I'd attempt one night, maybe. If you let me." He paused. "Anything more than that I worried might make you go into a state of panic."

"You're funny if you don't think I'm not already panicking..." you smirked, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Letting go of your hand, Chris lifted both of his in mock-surrender. "I come in peace, I promise. Am I too close already? I can go sit on the couch over there to give you a little more distance if that would make you more comfortable?"

Picking up the dishtowel by your hand, you balled it up and threw it at his face with a soft laugh. "I'm not a fainting goat, you idiot."

"Hey, I just don't want to startle you," Chris laughed, slowly standing from the barstool before he crept around the island to stand in front of you.

"Besides, I already pegged you as another animal. Remember? You meet all of my Koalafications?" He wiggled his eyebrows, lifting one of his arms to lightly poke you in the side.

Groaning at his cheesiness, you stepped forward and closed the distance, finally wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Pressing your cheek against his shoulder, you exhaled, some of the tension finally escaping from within.

Chris let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you pulled him closer to you, and instinctively his arms snaked around your waist, resting his cheek against your hair. Up until this point, he had been doing everything he could to mask his nervousness, terrified that you wouldn't give him the time of day, let alone let him into your home.

Against his shoulder, you closed your eyes, relaxing into his warm embrace. "I'm not making you breakfast though," you murmured into his shirt.

A rumble of a laugh reverberated through his body and he nodded. "That's fine, I'll do the cooking," he mumbled in reply, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

hope y'all had fun catching some of the easter eggs i threw in there 😉

tag list (🫶🏼): @angel-writes-skz-here @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife

let me know if you'd like to be added :)

Masterlist

#bang chan #bang chris #christopher bang #stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids bang chan #skz channie #bangchan #skz #stray kids x female reader #kpop fanfic #bang chan fanfic

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nyx-umbrakinesis · 8 months ago

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Vox takes you on a date to a casino.

Vox: "So, Doll what do you want to do first?"

You: "Oh well, I'm not really sure... I've never really gambled before. I don't want to lose money because I don't know how..."

Vox slings his arm around your shoulder, his warm body pressed to yours.

Vox: "Nonsense, Doll I'll teach you, and it's all on my, my treat, how about we get you a nice drink, and I'll teach you how to BJ..."

At your startled look, he holds up his hands laughing, clearly he'd been teasing you.

Vox: "I just meant Blackjack."

He laughs at your reddened face and guides you over to the bar, giving you the rundown of the rules, you're sure you'll learn better as you play, but it gives you enough of an idea of what's expected in the game.

You sit in the seat and Vox hovers beside you, sending soothing static down your spine and sparking delightfully through your nerves making it hard to focus.

Not that it matters as Vox tells you every move to make anyway right now.

You celebrate your first win so excitedly and to Vox's utter pleasure you kiss him ecstatic and buzzing, he buys you another drink and you go another round really liking this game.

You found you won the next hand again under his guidance and tried yourself the next time and lost.

Every time he helped you, you seemed to win, and each time he got a kiss in gratitude, he'd clearly won more than he'd lost.

As you were about to buy in for another round, a trio of imposing guys approach the table and you end up clutching Vox's arm as you're both whisked off to a side room.

The dude sitting there is feline in nature. The guards post beside him and one at the door behind you.

Vox: "Well hello there Husker, good to see you my man, our evening is going splendidly, nice place you've got here."

'Husker' however is stoney faced, to Vox's charismatic friendliness.

Husk: "As a fellow Overlord who don't want no war, I'm gonna just tell you this once and give you one chance, you leave and there'll be no trouble."

Vox shifts, subtly blocking you further from view, you cling to his jacket trembling.

Vox: "And why would I do that, my good fellow?"

His voice, friendly as ever but you can hear the shift in the undertone, a dangerous one, feeling the static shocks run down his spine you still do not let go despite your fingers going numb.

It was Vox's one rule, if there's trouble you don't let go as he can zap you both out of anywhere with electricity in less than a moment as long as you're connected.

Husk: "You been countin' cards, and I want you out."

You gasp in slight surprise and you feel Vox shaking with laughter, like he'd expected this all along.

Vox: "Why would you say that, Husk? Be careful what you say next, you might not like the outcome."

Husk was either very brave or very foolish, or perhaps a bit of both, maybe it's because Vox wasn't really a fighter... That was ever talked about.

Husk: "You win every round you play, and you might not have the counting cards tells like most normal folk but I know you're doing it in that tecky head of yours and I want you out for cheating on my turf."

Vox: "I'm going to give you just one chance to take that accusation and rude statement back my man, and let bygone be bygones, otherwise... You'll be the one regretting your actions tonight. I might have a 'techy' head, but I can assure you I have integrity for games that my mentor taught me..."

The room flickers around you all, your knuckles going pale as your grip shakes and the power flashes in the whole casino.

Vox: "I do not cheat, and you insult me as an Overlord and a paying patron, and if you don't submit an apology, of course good chum, I will be forced to ruin you."

Husk: "I've heard enough, take him out boys."

Guns were pulled and in a moment you were back in VTower in the penthouse, dizzy from the unusual travel, blood still buzzing in your veins as Vox catches you and settles you on the couch cradling your face.

Vox: "You okay? Babydoll?"

You breathe deep for a moment getting grounded, your face splits into a wide grin.

You: "Fuck you're hot when you're swinging your dick around with authority."

Vox laughs kissing you deeply. Thoroughly amused at your choice of words and feeling the real thing twitch with more interest.

Vox: "Oh yeah? Want me to order you around a little tonight, Doll? Maybe you can show your Master just how much you like being his little pet."

You can't help the loan that escapes you, his shark-like grin tells you how well received your involuntary response went however.

Vox: "Good, my Babydoll. So good aren't you? Held onto me the whole time we were there, trusted me, such a good little Pet."

You whimper and bite your lip, flushing and nodding eagerly, dragging a finger down the ball of his antenna making him shiver slightly, his claws prick your hips where they tighten.

You: "Did you cheat?"

Vox: "Oh absolutely, Alastor always taught me as long as you hold all the cards and are the most powerful in the room however, no one can stop you. I have seniority, I have more power and I'm afraid I'm going to have to end that two bit Overlords little buisness in less than a weeks time."

Vox kisses you all across the face and angling your head funny, kisses down your neck with every word, to your giggles.

Vox: "I'll give him two days to lure him into a false sense of security, then I'll strike, and while he's trying to save himself I'll offer him a deal... But first, my Doll, I'm going to have a pre-celebration, right here with you."

His voice almost purrs at you and you whimper as he covers your body with his, kissing you soundly and really living up to his words as he doesn't disappoint tending to all your needs for the next two days, making you scream his name more times than you can keep track of.

Only, after two days Vox's plans didn't quite work out the way he'd intended...

It seems the cat was smarter than he appeared... And had already taken the threat seriously, seems the old cat was now under Alastor's protection, and his business untouchable, Husk had his soul chained but still kept his power and business and Vox raged for a whole week after that.

Only you could calm him for short periods of times, but you were bruised from how roughly he'd handled you.

On the last night, Vox curled around you muttering apologies into your skin as he caressed every mark, and kissed every bite.

You didn't mind so much, but with an extra threat just that week from some mafia guys, he moved you out of the tower and into your own flat.

You couldn't help but feel isolated and alone, wondering if Vox would ever come back for you...

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squintyeyedjoel · 1 year ago

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Look For The Light | (Joel x Reader) - Coming Soon!

Synopsis: When Joel and Ellie are on their way to find the Fireflies, they stumble across something else in an abandoned farmhouse. Something unexpected and life changing - you. ….and the three year old toddler you rescued three days ago that happens to harbor something familiar Joel has a hard time reconciling with.

(Sneak peek below the cut!)

Suddenly the handle on the door to your room jiggled, making the breath stutter in your chest.

The low voice on the other side of the wooden barrier made you jump. “I’ll give you to the count of three, otherwise I’m breakin’ this thing down.”

You gulped.

“One.”

Silence.

“Two.”

A beat more.

“Three.”

Suddenly the door swung open, the latch busting into pieces and skittering across the floor as the hulking frame of a man barreled through shoulder first. Just behind him you saw a teenaged girl peeking in curiously from the top of the steps.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, offering a timid smile. “I’d have met you at the door, but,” you looked down toward the bundle in your arms, the smile turning more genuine. “My hands are full.”

“Holy fucking shit,” the teenager mumbled, before trying to make her way around the grumpy looking man. He caught her by her backpack, not allowing her any closer, to which she turned a skeptical look his way. “Really, Joel? It’s a baby. What’s it gonna do, drool me to death?”

You snorted a laugh, arching an eyebrow at the man- Joel’s unimpressed look your way.

“It’s a toddler. They’d scream your ear off b’fore they’d drool-” He stopped when he glanced from the tiny human in your arms who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, and focused back on the teen, finding her already looking at him with raised brows.

After a moment he released her with a sigh, and she took a few tentative steps your way, wide grin climbing up her face.

“How would you know, anyway?” She teased the man without sparing him a glance.

The look he shot at the back of the girl's head made you want to grin, but you successfully tucked it into the top of the little human’s head in your lap.

“I’m older ‘an you. Been ‘round the block a few times, is all. Know a thing or two.” His voice was a rumbling grouse, the dry tone exasperated and saying he’d been here a time or two before, this argument worn and thin.

“Yeah, because you’re ancient,” she mocked.

“Ain’t that old,” he grumbled.

“Dirt is younger, Joel.”

“Not worried I’m infected?” You kept your voice calm, not wanting to poke the angry bear known as Joel.

The girl smiled in a way that said she had more to say than what she was telling as she knelt next to you. “No. Not really.”

“Ellie,” Joel groaned, taking a step closer as the teen sat next to you, her shoulder lightly bumping against your own as her back pressed against the wall.

“I’m not, by the way,” you looked between them both. “Infected.” Looking down to the toddler in your arms, snorting as she tried to hide further into your threadbare shirt, you couldn’t help but smile softly. “Neither is she.”

“What’s her name?” Ellie reached out a finger for the little one to hold. It was taken tentatively, and given a firm shake like she had seen countless adults do around her in the QZ you’d been in before.

It made Joel snort out a laugh through his nose.

“Sarah.”

The laugh turned into a choking sound, quickly melting into a coughing fit as Joel bent over at his waist, bracing his hands on his knees as he fought for air.

“You okay, old man?”

You tried to stifle the smile Ellie’s comment brought to your face before you turned your gaze back up to Joel once again.

After a long moment, he stood up straight with a huff. “Fine.” Another long pause. “Just swallowed wrong.”

Wanna be tagged if/when I write any future Joel stuff? Here’s how to sign up!

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asnowfern · 19 days ago

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The Connoisseurs - A Lover’s Interlude

Part 4 of The Connoisseurs series for @nestaarcheronweek and it’s a short fic this time round.

This was originally meant for Day 4 : Lover but life got in the way so Day 6 : Birthday it is! Because every girl deserves diamonds for her birthday right?

WC: 1k, T for SFW

Read on AO3

Part 3 of the Connoisseurs

The glass doors slide close behind her.

No alarm, no shouts, nothing. Nobody even notices as Nesta leaves the building, descends the short span of steps and steps onto the main road. In the span of the next three blocks, her hair colour and outfit have changed — a mousy brunette postgraduate researcher transformed into a confident corporate worker heading into town for drinks.

The fact that her nondescript purse carries a $5 million dollar necklace is almost irrelevant.

Nesta smiles. Her heart beats steadily in time with the assured clicking of heels on pavement. It is almost too easy.

She takes her time returning to her apartment, swinging by the bookstore and casually browses through the new romance releases. She only returns to her building much later with two books clasped between her forearm and chest. Those, she paid for. There are lines that even she does not cross.

She greets the doorman, glances out the all-glass walls of the lift, and swipes down the access card, entering through the doorway. A routine so ordinary no one will ever suspect otherwise.

Nesta allows the door to snick shut before she scoffs. She snips with no real edge, “Sloppy.”

The blood in her veins thrum in anticipation of the figure stepping out of the shadows. A tingling in the tip of her fingers that skates up her arm, doubling with every stretched millisecond until it reaches a fiery intensity.

Like her, his outfits are usually nothing more than a disguise. But today, it feels more authentic than it ever did with her before. His Jordans peep out of the corners first. Followed by the plain black windbreaker, adorned with simple red stripes down the length of his arms, and its accompanying pants. A tight fit around powerful thighs and an embrace of a broad chest — only the lowered zipper reveals whirling ink underneath. Teasing, tantalising.

Cassian: the infamous Lord of Bloodshed, the rival to her Silver Flames.

A grin slashes across the ruggedly handsome face as he shrugs casually, “Don’t quite fancy being pinned down with a knee strike to my balls again.”

Nesta simply laughs. She sets her books and purse on the countertop. Then, she approaches him. Close enough to see the dancing specks of gold in his hazel irises, to engulf her senses with his intoxicating scent of smoked wood and crisp winter air, like a roaring campfire in the cold woods. She glances up to lock gazes with him. In one fluid motion. She settles an open palm on his shoulder and brings her knee dangerously close between his thighs once more.

She then drops her lifted leg back to the ground and uses the momentum to push herself up to whisper into his ear, “Liar. You loved it.”

It has always been a game of cat and mouse between the two of them. From chasing each other all over the globe with cryptic messages, embedded between the obvious clues of their next target, to finally clashing in-person; first with words and later with tongue and teeth.

Exhilaration and fulfilment in a way Nesta never thought possible.

Cassian hums and closes a hand around the small of her back, its size nearing spanning the entirety of her waist. The grip tightens almost painfully as he crushes her body flushed against his. Every soft curve against hard muscle. His lips parted a mere inch away from her face.

The simmering heat in her blazes.

“You can never prove it.”

Then the heat vanishes. Cassian has stepped away, his deft fingers already lifting the stolen necklace out of her purse. “Impressive work with the switch. Who knew those Earthy nut jobs would be there?” Referring to the climate activists who are in favour of ruining famous art to make a statement on climate change. They usually targeted more popular museums to make their splashing point but they had struck the slightly less known restored palace today. Sent by Nesta as a diversion, of course. And unsurprisingly, Cassian figured out the whole play.

She carefully extracts the jewellery out of his hands. She drawls, “Who knew, indeed?”

The scar that cuts across his left brow glimmers in the pale sheen of the moonlight as Cassian smirks all too knowingly.

“And the lack of a calling card?” He asks, not missing a beat. The side of his hip rests against the countertop, his eyes trained on her as she keeps the necklace in a simple box. She will have it moved to a safe location when she leaves the country but for now, it is as safe as it gets.

The box clicks shut, the digital lock blinks as the internal sliding mechanism activates.

“A flame symbol etched deep within the crystals.” She answers firmly and almost too smug, “Whenever they find out it’s a fake.”

“Brilliant.”

In the next breath, Cassian brackets her back into the countertop, his lips swiftly capturing hers. The familiar taste of him has Nesta reacting by reflex; her lips contouring against his, sucking, moaning. Her arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer. More.

More, his lips agree. Tongue thrusting in for a deeper taste of her. Rough hands move her legs to hook around his waist. The searing grip on her thighs, threatening to leave a bruise as he effortlessly carries her towards the bedroom, his mouth never once parting from hers.

***

Much, much later when they are a tangle of limbs under the sheets, Nesta hums sleepily in sated content. Her eyelids grow heavy as calloused fingers trace lazy circles on the pale, smooth skin of her shoulders. Waves and curls; a constant motion reminiscent of his tattoos.

Her eyes fell shut when she felt a slight nibble on her ear, almost beckoning her not to give into blissful sleep just yet.

“Move in with me.” A low rumble reverberates through their bodies.

Silver blue eyes fly open. Nesta hastily twists her body around so that she is facing him, and she scrutinises him with a gaze.

Cassian is the picture of relaxed contentment. His hands adapt to the change in position instantly, still drawing those lazy circles. Hazel eyes that Nesta can spend all day looking at, are soft, touched with just the slightest of nerves.

He is so painfully beautiful.

“People like us don’t have homes.” She whispers.

Because they have houses, sure. Lots of them even. But, homes? The notion is so foreign it almost twists her tongue funny to say.

Cassian gives her one inscrutable look before scooping her into his arms. Those molten honey eyes engulfs her with just as much warmth as his body does.

“Oh, Nesta. Don’t you know by now? My home is wherever you are.”

Nesta simply smiles and relaxes into the embrace.

She’s home.

#nestaweek2025 #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #acotar

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vividwritinglove · 4 months ago

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Mario Kart redemption night – Joško Gvardiol

You’d been planning this for weeks, ever since Joško came home from that ill-fated Mario Kart tournament, which is now visible for everyone on the internet. It wasn’t just the fact that his team lost—it was the turkey hat punishment that really got to him. You’d never seen him so grumpy after a fun event. “How can you take me seriously if I’m forced to wear a turkey on my head?” he’d grumbled as he dropped onto the couch, crossing his arms like a sulking teenager.

The memory of him sitting there, trying to salvage his pride while still slightly laughing at the absurdity, had stuck with you. That’s when the idea was born.

Now, everything was ready. You had set the mood with colored lights, snacks lined up on the coffee table, and his favorite drink chilled and waiting. The star of the night, though, was the surprise you’d carefully hidden behind the couch: a Nintendo Switch and a copy of Mario Kart 8 Deluxe. You grinned, imagining the look on his face when he saw it.

Joško walked in, a little later than usual. His tall frame filled the doorway as he kicked off his sneakers, glancing into the living room. He paused, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the setup.

“What’s all this, ljubavi?” he asked, his thick Croatian accent tinged with curiosity.

“Game night,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. “Thought you could use a chance to redeem yourself after the… turkey incident.”

His eyes narrowed and he set his glasses straight. “The turkey incident?”

You reached behind the couch and revealed the Nintendo Switch. The moment he saw the game case for Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, his jaw dropped. For a split second, he just stared, utterly dumbfounded, before breaking into a disbelieving laugh.

“You’re joking,” he said, but the spark in his eyes betrayed his excitement.

“Nope. All real.” You handed him the Switch, smirking. “But I have to warn you—I’ve played this since I was a kid. You’re not going to win.”

He snorted, shaking his head as he inspected the console like a kid on Christmas morning. “Is that so? I didn't know you even play?”

“Apparently you don't know me well enough yet.” You wink at him. “Consider this a rematch. Or a grudge match. Whatever you want to call it.”

Joško grinned, his competitive streak kicking in. “Oh, I’m going to destroy you. You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

“Big talk for someone who couldn’t avoid a blue shell last time,” you teased.

His mock outrage was priceless. “That was my teammates’ fault! They didn’t know how to block!”

Laughing, you sat down and handed him a controller. The game started up, the familiar sounds of the Mario Kart theme filling the room. The first race began, and immediately, Joško was in the zone. His eyes flicked between the screen and your player icon, a smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled ahead.

“You call this experience?” he taunted as you struggled to keep up. “This is embarrassing.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you shot back, managing to land a red shell just as he was about to cross the finish line. He groaned loudly, throwing his hands up in mock despair as you overtook him at the last second.

“No way!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with equal parts frustration and amusement. “You’re cheating!”

“Skill,” you corrected, beaming as your victory screen lit up. “Admit it—I’m better than you.”

“You’re not better,” he grumbled, though the smile on his face said otherwise. “But this is fun. Way better than that stupid turkey hat.”

You leaned back, satisfied. “I thought you’d like it.”

Joško turned to you, his expression softening as his competitive edge melted away. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. But… thanks. I needed this.”

“Of course,” you said, giving him a playful nudge. “But don’t think I’m going easy on you next round.”

“Good,” he replied, his grin returning. “Because I’m taking you down.”

The night continued with laughter, trash talk, and way too many banana peels. Joško leaned over, as he passed you last second and finished the race at 1st place. He kissed the top of your head as you groaned in frustration. “What? You’re done losing already?”

You rolled your eyes. “Funny. But no, I think we should raise the stakes.”

That got his attention. He straightened up, his dark eyes sparking with curiosity. “Stakes? Like what?”

“Well,” you began, twirling the controller in your hand, “every time someone loses a race, they have to do a forfeit.”

He leaned back, smirking. “You’re really asking for trouble.”

“Am I?” You gave him an innocent look, already plotting the forfeits. “Come on. Unless you’re scared you’ll lose?”

Joško’s pride flared like a match. “Scared? Of you? Alright, what kind of forfeits are we talking about?”

You shrugged casually. “Nothing too crazy. First forfeit: loser has to do ten push-ups.”

His smirk widened. “Deal. Hope your arms are ready, because you’re going to need them.”

The next race began, and you both leaned forward, completely locked in. It was Rainbow Road—the ultimate chaos track. You managed to stay ahead for most of the race, dodging shells and carefully navigating the sharp turns. But just as you were about to hit the final stretch, Joško’s green shell ricocheted off a wall and smacked into your kart, sending you spinning off the edge.

“No!” you shouted as he zoomed past you, laughing like a maniac.

“You see that? Perfect shot!” he gloated, crossing the finish line while you struggled to recover.

You groaned as the race results flashed on the screen. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he teased and blew you a kiss, setting his controller down. “Now, let’s see those push-ups.”

Grumbling, you got down on the floor and started counting. He hovered above you, watching with exaggerated delight. “One… two… Come on, you can do better than that.”

“Shut up, or the next forfeit is singing karaoke,” you shot back, pushing through the last few reps.

When you finally got back up, Joško was already selecting the next track. “What’s the next forfeit, then?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself.

You thought for a moment, then grinned. “Loser has to wear something embarrassing.”

His smile faltered. “Define ‘embarrassing.’”

“You’ll see,” you said cryptically, heading to the bedroom. You returned a minute later holding none other than a bright pink unicorn onesie you’d stashed away for a rainy day.

Joško’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“Oh, yes way,” you replied, wiggling the onesie in the air. “Better hope you win this round.”

He laughed nervously but quickly fell silent as the race began. It was neck-and-neck the whole time, both of you pulling out every dirty trick in the book. When he hit you with a blue shell on the final lap, you thought it was over—but then he accidentally drove straight into a banana peel, giving you just enough time to overtake him.

“YES!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air.

Joško stared at the screen in disbelief. “No. No, that didn’t just happen.”

“Oh, it happened,” you said, holding out the onesie. “Time to suit up, unicorn boy.”

Grumbling, he reluctantly pulled the onesie over his clothes. You couldn’t stop laughing as he stood there, looking utterly ridiculous in a way to tight and short onesie, but still managing to somehow make it look endearing.

“Alright, that’s it,” he said, sitting back down and grabbing his controller. “No more Mr. Nice Guy.”

The next few races flew by, each with increasingly ridiculous forfeits—doing your best impression of Toad’s voice, balancing a snack bowl on your head for an entire race, and even one where the loser had to run around the apartment shouting, “I’m the best!” in Mario’s voice. Joško took that one like a champ, though you made sure to record it for future blackmail material.

By the end of the night, you were both sprawled out on the couch, the remnants of snacks scattered around you. Joško still wore the unicorn onesie, though he’d unzipped it halfway. He glanced at you, a tired but happy smile on his face.

“I haven’t laughed this much in a long time,” he admitted.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “Me neither.”

He turned to you, his voice soft. “Thanks for this. I mean it. Even if I had to wear… this.”

You chuckled, tugging at the sleeve of the onesie. “You look good in pink, honestly.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t fade. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“And you’re lucky I let you win that last race,” you shot back.

“Liar,” he said, pulling you closer, before kissing you gently. “But I’ll take it.”

#josko gvardiol #josko gvardiol fluff #josko gvardiol imagine #josko gvardiol x reader #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football fanfic

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maniculum · 6 months ago

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Bestiaryposting Results: The Maritime Finale

This is definitely the last one of these, as it's rounding up a bunch of sea creatures I've missed. I assume by this point everyone who sees this knows what it's about, but just in case: https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. (I'll get the rest of the entries on there soon.)

The entry people are working from is here:

The one for next week does not exist. (Also I apologize if I seem rushed, this is a busy week for me.)

Art below the cut!

@pomrania (link to post here) has us off on a weird start with their interpretation of the Fatrihrukh. I don't have any particular nostalgia for rage-face comics (I was online during that era, just not in circles where they were common), but honestly this made me smile. Also I like imagining some fisherman on a dock, still sitting in a normal pose and holding his fishing rod, just full-throat screaming at the sky, apparently apropos of nothing in particular. This is a fun one, is what I'm saying.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has an uncanny ability to make me think, "sure, that looks like an animal that could be real" even when they're drawing something like Fish With Tentacles, which I am 99% sure is not a thing. Though if fish did have tentacles, they would look like that. This is of course also the Fatrihrukh; apparently people like that one.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has done the whole set. A lot of these turned out really well -- I think the Ormlalaehr is stealing the show here, but the Bursgaenga is pretty darn cute. The linked post has details on each of them, which I recommend checking out. (Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) continues to impress with their delightful art style. Love the little space-invader Magtlegyegs, and the Lungyoggeas are just... wild. Extremely cool looking. (Also, thank you for providing alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) joins the broad consensus that if you're only drawing one of these, it's the Fatrihrukh. I love the (medieval-art-appropriate) choice to give it human-like parts since the entry doesn't say otherwise. The colors are also really pretty; I like the effect on the background.

Okay. Aberdeen Bestiary. No illustrations for this one -- this whole section is just blocks of text.

Ahrmegyaeb

The wording is ambiguous as to whether whales and dolphins also do this -- but the creature in question is the seal. I have no idea how this works; either baby seals are way smaller than I think or I have completely the wrong idea about how seal mouths look.

Bursgaenga

This one is of course the scarus or escarius, which does not exist. Bestiary.ca notes that Scarus is a genus of parrotfish in modern taxonomy, and that the Rackham translation of Pliny the Elder has decided they are wrasse. No idea how well that reflects medieval understanding.

Chraekhret

Another one that doesn't exist, the echenais. Apparently Pliny has heard of some magical applications in love-charms, litigation, and obstetrics. The fish that anchors ships is a good addition to a fantasy setting, I think.

Dhrakyetor

Naturally the fish that looks like a serpent is the eel. More spontaneous generation, too, which is always nice. I swear I've heard that "giant eels in the Ganges" line somewhere before, but can't place it.

Eavbechtgi

Here we have the lamprey. I kind of wonder if this "head vs. tail" thing has something to do with its unusual head shape?

Fatrihrukh

Honestly I probably should have redacted the "many-footed" thing, because the name given is polippus, which... yeah, that actually tracks. I thought maybe this was the result of someone not bothering to actually count the limbs on an octopus, but it's apparently an obsolete umbrella term for octopus, squid, cuttlefish... all manner of tentacled cephalopod.

Griggkhraz

This is the torpedo, which is some fun etymology. The modern usage of torpedo is inherited from non-self-propelled naval mines, which were named after this torpedo, an electric ray. (Presumably they named mines after it because it hides itself & zaps you if you accidentally step on it.) The rays were named for their effect on people whom they zap: torpidus, 'numb'. This is of course cognate with English torpid. Which is a strange word to be cognate with the thing you shoot at boats.

Also:

...if a torpedo from the Indian sea is touched by a spear or rod, even from a considerable distance, the muscles of the fisherman's arms, even if they are very strong, grow numb...

Would that work if it were a metal rod?

Hretchngin

This is the crab. I did not know all of that about crabs, especially the basil thing.

Khaboghrad

Meet the sea urchin. That's why it specifies "the maritime kind" -- the other kind of urchin is a hedgehog. I don't know why the author calls it "worthless and contemptible", especially since they go on to say it can do this really cool thing. Just seems unnecessarily mean.

Lungyoggea

This one is just shellfish. All of them, apparently. The words given are conca and concle -- Latin concha covers shellfish in general.

Magtlegyeg

Naturally the pearl-bearing shellfish is the oyster, but I love the imagery of oysters going ashore to be fertilized by dew from heaven. The idea of going out at night to watch the oysters migrate onto land and catch the dew is another thing I'm taking note of for a fantasy setting.

Nolthrigyo

Someone probably clocked this one: it's the murex snail, source of the famous "tyrian purple" dye.

Ormlalaehr

Really pushing the definition of "fish" here is... the tortoise. Technically also the turtle, I guess, since the author specifies that this includes land and sea varieties. This is, I think, one that makes total sense once you know what it is, so we're moving on to our last one, which is also really pushing the "what is a fish" envelope...

Riggmungku

This is the frog, also obvious once you see it. The fact that it's being called a fish really throws you off, though, I think.

And that's the whole lot. This has been fun, but I'm also glad to have it completed. (Well, completed with the exception of any responses to this one I've missed or that came in late.) Thanks to everyone who's been looking in on this project -- thanks doubly to everyone who contributed -- and thanks triply to the handful of people who drew something practically every week.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #maniculumsneakyseabeasties #Fatrihrukh #Ahrmegyaeb #Bursgaenga #Chraekhret #Dhrakyetor #Eavbechtgi #Griggkhraz #Hretchngin #Khaboghrad #Lungyoggea #Magtlegyeg #Nolthrigyo #Ormlalaehr #Riggmungku

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 8 months ago

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i told the stars about you

The wide expanse of stars twinkle outside her window, glittering like goldstone. Shirayuki wonders if it’s her imagination or if the skies in the North truly are more arresting. The nights of Wistal were beautiful, yes, but fogged by firelight, paler perhaps than the shades of blue and purple she can make out here. Or was she just not looking? Her impressions could be shaded by the rarity of a clear evening in the North, or perhaps the memory of those early years in Clarines have faded. And yet-

And yet something about this night sky in particular strikes her.

She hugs herself, the heat of another body still soaked into hers long after they’ve returned to their respective rooms. Long after she has changed into her nightgown and set aside all the accoutrements of professionalism, brushing her hair until it crackled with static. Long after she stationed herself at this window, looking up to once familiar stars for answers.

Emotionally exhausted, but... happy. So, so happy.

It must be her imagination how she can still smell the wool and leather and wild that never quite left him. Can still feel his broad hand alighted upon her back, tentative as if anything more might break him. Can still feel the shape of his words murmured against her ear.

“Keep this?”

Shirayuki’s eyes squeeze shut, tight as the fist in her chest. Always, always, she would never think to do otherwise. She would keep it, treasure it, honor the bravery it took him to offer it.

Her grip tightens on herself, but it’s- not the same, not enough.

She can bear it no longer.

Shirayuki spins on her heels, flying towards the door connecting their rooms. Without a moments pause, she flings it open and there—

There are two wide eyes, staring into hers, hand hovering in the space between them.

“Oh. Miss. I—”

“Obi! I- Earlier. We were interrupted and I just thought—”

…that our hug wasn’t finished.

Embarrassment starts to creep up her neck, disbelief at her own reasoning. Hands flutter helplessly in that too large of an expanse between them, and she grasps at nothing for words, hoping to catch a more rational thought. But then she looks up at him, helpless. Between the two of them, he was always the better one at reading her meaning when she didn’t know what to say, and—

His eyes are red at the corners, glossy in the dim light.

The air pulls out of her lungs. He hugged her before. Just an hour ago. Held her, even. So she doesn’t think, she just… flings herself forward, arms wrapping themselves around his middle. He must’ve taken his night gown from Eisetsu’s place, the silk feels familiar. Far better than either of them could afford. She’s half a mind to scold him for stealing from their host, but—

But his ribs collapse under her hold, spine rounding as his body curls over hers. He pulls her closer. So, so gingerly. She doesn’t know how to tell him that her body can take his strength, too. That he can- that he can hold her the way his body needs.

He sucks a breath next to her ear as if in pain and alarm spikes up her spine. Did she hurt him??? Shirayuki braces her palms against his arms, arching backwards to take a look—

His hand tangles in her hair, pressing her face tight to his chest.

“Obi?” Her voice is muffled against his collarbone, sight blocked by the dark fabric of his clothes.

“Miss,” he breathes, voice hoarse, and it’s only now that she feels how he shakes, how he trembles, and—

Wetness spills onto her cheek. It’s not hers.

Not yet at least.

“I thought--” she chokes, wrapping her arms around him once more-- “that we weren’t done hugging it out yet.”

Laughter rattles out of him, his thumb stroking a line along the nape of her neck. “No, Miss.” Obi sniffs, his cheek resting against the crown of her head, and her eyes well. He can’t cry because that means she has to cry, too. “I don’t think we were.”

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #obiyukiweek24 #chapter 136 spoilers #OKAY I THINK I MAY HAVE GOTTEN IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM NOW WE'LL SEE

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thedroneranger · 2 years ago

Text

The Last Unicorn

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Javy "Coyote" Machado

Synopsis: Getting caught between Natasha and Javy leads to a unique experience.

Note: A horribly late entry for @sushiwriterhere's Top Gun Threesomeissance 2023 event—thank you for inviting me to participate! I have a bad bout of writer's block, but forced myself to push through and write this. Took longer than expected, but I wanted to finish it. It's also my first threesome, so I welcome feedback but be kind!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, ffm, threesome.

Word count: 5.3k

Javy hated when Natasha flirted with other people. Every phone number, every touch pissed him off.

“Hold that glass any tighter, and you’re gonna be wearing your beer.” Jake said as he sat down next to Javy and tracked his best friend’s gaze to Natasha.

She was on the other side of the bar, hand wrapped around a beer pint while a fresh-off-the-carrier ensign made her laugh. Jake never could figure out Javy’s infatuation with Natasha, and he also couldn’t figure out Javy’s refusal to admit he had feelings for her.

Jake had lost count of the number of times Javy had drunkenly told him he and Natasha were purely physical. Every time Jake just nodded his head and drank his beer. Mentally, he would run through the rolodex of moments that said otherwise.

But now Javy and Natasha were in some sort of argument, and not speaking to each other. Not unusual. They would kiss and make up eventually.

Both Jake and Javy were deep in separate thoughts when you approached. “Are you ready for another round?” You asked with a smile. The two men nodded as you walked away to get them fresh beers.

You’d been working at The Hard Deck long enough to recognize Jake and Javy. You knew they were friends with the bar owner, Penny. You also knew Jake could go home with anyone in this bar. Javy, too. While Jake usually took advantage, Javy always left with the same brunette.

Jake and Javy also recognized you. They made half-hearted passes at you only when Penny wasn’t around, and then made sure to make up for it in tips.

You were convinced Penny had threatened them about fraternizing with her staff. It made you chuckle to think that Penny would shake down her customers before her own staff. It also sounded very much like Penny.

Natasha, the brunette Javy usually went home with, either was exempt or just didn’t care. She shamelessly flirted with the bartenders.

You found her attention flattering.

Any man with functioning eyes thought you were attractive. Of course, this meant you put up with a gamut of flirting, catcalls and comments. It was the most exhausting part of your shifts.

However, Natasha’s flirting felt less burdensome. Probably because she was a woman and knew more about how you ticked. Or maybe Natasha wasn’t even flirting with you? How did you know?! Were you being presumptuous? Confusing friendliness for more? After all, other women didn’t flirt with you. Or maybe they did? Maybe they did but were more subtle, and you just didn’t have a clue? You were used to subtle-as-a-neon-sign men.

Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming. Are women better kissers? Are women truly better lovers? You had had your fair share of subpar romps with men. Are women actually better at li—

Shoot! Javy’s beer overflowed. Focus! You needed to focus. You wiped your hand, snagged a clean glass and poured another beer. Smile back on, you took the fresh pints to Jake and Javy. They thanked you, and you turned to find the next patron in need.

Natasha was staring straight at you. You bit your lip, clenched your fist and headed in her direction. “Hey!” She greeted you while leaning across the bar top.

“Hey!” You echoed, also leaning across the counter so you could hear better.

Jake and Javy watched your exchange. “Goddammit, she gets off on breaking the rules.” Javy grunted.

Jake sniggered as he took a sip of his beer. “I think she’s genuinely into her. She doesn’t hit on any of the other bartenders.” They continued to watch you and Natasha while sipping their beers. You laughed at something Natasha said, and she gently touched your arm. Then you took her empty glass to replenish her drink.

An idea struck Javy. He gulped his beer and pushed the empty glass toward your side of the counter. Always attentive, you noticed and noted to visit him after giving Natasha her pint.

Natasha kept her eye on you as you floated over to Jake and Javy. Both men were so focused on you, they didn’t even notice Natasha glaring at them. She watched as Javy said something that made you laugh.

Then, of course, Jake chimed in. Heaven forbid he not be in the center of attention. She scoffed as she sat her beer on the counter.

Javy was flirting with you, and Jake was wingmanning for him! Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes. Penny was nowhere to be found when Natasha needed her the most. It was calculated. Normally, Natasha was the flirt. She sought out people to piss off Javy.

“What are you up to?” Natasha said under her breath. She practically chugged her beer and flagged you down for another.

All night, you volleyed between Javy and Natasha, refilling their drinks and politely engaging with them. You were completely oblivious to the silent war raging between the pair.

As the night went on, the bar grew busier and Javy and Natasha couldn’t have all your attention. While you were serving some other patrons, Jake sidled up to Natasha and leaned on the bar beside her.

“Bagman.” She spat without looking at him, sticking her face in her pint.

“Bird brain.” He turned and waited for her to react.

She glared at him as she set her drink down. “What’s Javy think he’s doing?”

“Getting under your skin, and I’d say it’s working.” His gaze went from Natasha to you. You were busy pouring a line of shots. “Just remember she’s not a piece of meat.”

Natasha was stunned. “There’s rich coming from you!” She told Jake.

Jake gave her his million-dollar smile and leaned in. “Leave the usin’ and abusin’ to me.” He grabbed his beer, ready to return to his perch on the other side of the bar. “Stop playing with Javy, too.”

“Why don’t you impart that wisdom on your best friend? It takes two!” Natasha shouted as Jake disappeared into the crowd.

By the time Jake settled into his seat beside Javy, Natasha was chatting you up. He knew exactly what you two were chatting about. Based on your body language you hadn’t committed yet.

Both forearms on the counter Natasha leaned toward you. You mirrored her stance so she could speak closer to your ear in the loud bar.

“What time do you get off work?” she asked.

“Bar closes at two, but since I have seniority I can leave first if the crowd dies down,” you explained.

“How about a nightcap at my place?” Natasha followed up.

You were taken aback. You weren’t ready for this moment. “I’ve never been with a woman,” you blurted.

“Same rules apply.” Natasha playfully winked. “No pressure. However, I’d love to have a drink with you, at the very least,” she said in earnest. “And I’d be happy to be your first.” Natasha paused. “Whenever you’re ready.” You both smiled.

“I’ll keep you posted.” You confirmed before parting to serve another patron.

Javy and Jake watched the exchange from their seats. “Looks like you won’t be in her bed tonight.” Jake referred to you.

Without skipping a beat, Javy said, “Nah, all three of us will be in Nat’s bed, instead.”

Jake nearly spit out his beer. He had never heard his best friend be so bold. They looked at each other. “You’re serious aren’t you?”

“As a heart attack.” Javy confirmed. The jukebox queue mellowed and the crowd thinned as Jake probed Javy about his plan. Once he was informed, Jake disappeared to take his pick of the Hard Deck smorgasbord and go home.

Meanwhile, Javy continued to watch you as you ended your shift and accompanied Natasha to the parking lot. He figured he had time for one more beer before joining you.

Until then, Natasha was focused solely on you. The drive to her place was short, but the playful roast over your music choices helped you unwind.

Once parked, Natasha led you by the hand into her apartment. She kept up the banter as she let you choose the wine. Everything felt easy as you nestled together on the couch.

Warm from the wine, you pliantly slipped onto Natasha’s lap. Her hands ran from your knees to your thighs and then rested on your hips as your hands explored her arms and neck.

Finally, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. Your hips rolled forward a little, which enticed Natasha to bring her thumbs to the creases of your thighs. Your lips fit perfectly against hers, and you smiled into the kiss when she did.

Your tongue swiped along her bottom lip, and she gladly premised you to deepen the kiss. Natasha met you by curling her fingers to your hair at the base of your skull.

The tension had you moaning into her mouth. You broke the kiss to allow her to press wet kisses down your neck. Eyes shut, you bit your lip as she continued to pepper you with affection.

Preoccupied, you barely noticed as her hands slipped under your shirt and massaged you through your bra. It wasn’t until her fingers dipped past the lined lace and pinched your nipples you acknowledged her. She smirked and repeated her motions to pull more noises from you.

You were a moaning mess, leaning into her touch and rocking your pelvis against hers. Natasha encouraged you with every touch of her lips and caress of her fingers.

Natasha managed to get you out of your shirt and had your jeans unbuttoned, when a sharp knock on the door nearly sent you rocketing through the roof. She tried to keep you going but you were distracted.

As you and Natasha attempted to untangle yourselves so she could answer the door, the knocking grew more rapid. You shooed her away with one final kiss. She kept a smile on her face until she turned to face the door.

Fortunately, you weren’t within sight or earshot. Before answering, Nataha took a deep breath and put on her signature smirk.

“What do you want, Machado?” She leaned on the doorframe as Javy stared at her. He looked casual with his hands in his pockets and the top few undone buttons of his shirt exposing his chest.

“Are you looking for a third?” He asked coolly.

Natasha had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud as she stood straight up. “You can’t be serious?”

He shrugged. “Can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” He stood square to Natasha. “I know you’re game.” Javy reached out and dipped two fingers into Natasha’s front pocket, pulling her toward him.

She stared at him as she took a step closer. “Why were we mad at each other?” she inquired. Her gaze dipped from his eyes to his lips momentarily.

Javy shrugged again. “Can’t say I recall.” He was slowly closing the gap between them.

“Me either,” Natasha said. She could feel Javy’s hot breath in her face. “Apologize, and I’ll let you in.”

He smirked. “Apologize for what? I thought we forgot what we were fighting about?” He stopped moving, awaiting a response.

“I’m convinced you were at fault.” She closed the gap, pushing her lips against his. Natasha cradled Javy’s face as his arms wrapped around her waist.

After a few seconds she pulled away. “It’s her first time with a woman. I don’t want you to ruin it.” She gave him a dangerous look.

Javy couldn’t help but smile. Natasha’s concern for others was one of the endearing things about her. “It might be helpful to have some familiar energy in the mix.”

“Everything is her choice,” Natasha told him.

“Absolutely.” Javy agreed.

“Even you joining.”

“Even me joining.” He agreed.

Unsure of what was taking so long, you’d put your shirt on and buttoned your pants. The wine was too enticing to pass up, so you poured yourself another glass and paged through an old aviation magazine Natasha had laying on the coffee table.

Finally, she reappeared with Javy. “Hi!” You hoped you managed to somewhat mask the surprise in your voice.

“Hey,” Javy replied casually with a bright smile.

“Wine?” You offered as though it were your home. Javy looked at Natasha who gave a slight nod. The three of you sat down, drank wine and bantered. You were tucked between the pair on the couch. Javy’s arm laid along the sofa behind your head, while Natsha’s hand rested on your thigh.

When your glass was empty, you stood up. “What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“I was thinking I should get going. I don’t want to impose on your evening.”

Natasha passively waved her hand. “If anything, Javy imposed.” She threw him a look. He nervously scratched the back of his head and flashed a cheeky smile in your direction.

“I’d love for you to stay and finish what we started,” Natasha said. “I’d love for both of you to stay, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Your gaze floated to Javy. “It’s your choice,” he said. “I don’t want to impose but I’d love to stay. Participate, even. If you’ll have me.”

“He’s very enthusiastic.” Natasha added as she glanced at him and pat his knee. He grinned.

In your wildest dreams you’d never imagined you’d be propositioned for a threesome. Let alone by a couple. Actually, were they a couple? Before your thoughts could swirl too much, Natasha slid her fingers into your hand and pulled you back onto the couch between them.

She looked at you as she let her knuckles skim up your arms. “What do you say?”

You were looking at her lips. “Do you do this often?” Your gaze came back to meet hers.

She shook head. “This would be the first time.” Her knuckle traced your jaw. “Javy and I only sleep with each other.” Natasha was looking at your lips, leaning closer.

“I haven’t been with anyone recently and am on birth control,” you replied.

Your tongue darted across your lower lip and Natasha’s pulled into a sweet smile. “Perfect.” Your lips finally met.

Her hand found the back of your head and guided you as she deepened the kiss. Soon you were kneeling on the couch cushions with your knees slotted. Natasha rocked herself against your kneecap for some friction, and you mirrored her actions.

A small moan escaped your lips as you caught her knee just right. “Holy, shit,” Natasha mumbled as you continued to make out. She pulled you further up her thigh, so you were closer. Your chests touching and her hand wrapped around your hips. Your hands were loosely splayed over her shoulders.

“Let me take you to bed.” She huffed as she pulled away. Her pupils were dilated with desire. You felt so powerful as you stared at her. Her chest heaved, waiting for your reply.

A groan had her looking past you. You turned to find Javy at the other end of the couch. He had given in and was palming his hard-on. “Do you want some help with that?” you asked. Both he and Natasha looked at you.

Natasha combed her fingers through your hair. “Only if you want to,” she said softly. You looked between her and Javy. He continued to massage his bulge. Silently, you slid from Natasha’s lap, and slipped onto the floor in front of Javy.

While you moved his hand and began to unfasten his pants, he scooted to the edge of the sofa. Together, you slipped his jeans down his legs and tossed them aside. Your palms ran up his thighs as you leaned forward into his lap.

A smile graced your lips as you thought about how Javy’s face wasn’t the only pretty thing about him. Then, you gingerly took his length in one hand, letting your thumb swipe over the tip. Precum slicked the pad. Javy watched as you brought your thumb to your mouth and sucked his essence from it.

His lips quirked at the soft pop! your lips made. A hum rose from your throat as you leaned forward to kiss his abs. Javy’s breath hitched, which made you smile.

You sprinkled kisses across Javy’s abdominals and thighs. Finally, your lips touched his cock. He twitched so hard when you finally kissed his tip, you thought he might instantly cum. Palms planted on the floor, you slipped the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. A light groan escaped Javy.

It was intense, but you held his gaze and you continued to swallow him inch by inch. Your tongue laved along the underside of his cock. You enjoyed the thick pulsing vein, which you softly prodded now and then. The first time, his hips bucked. The second time, you felt his length twitch.

Javy was first to break eye contact. Once he was completely down your throat, he couldn’t help but loll his head against the back of the couch and moan. A smile crept across your features the best it could for having a thick cock stuffed in your mouth.

A hand grazed across your shoulders as Natasha knelt beside you. “Can I touch you?” she asked. You nodded the best you could. Natasha’s hand was in your hair, combing it out of your face. She placed soft kisses on the back of your neck and along your shoulders as she situated herself behind you.

Lips still on your neck, Natasha’s hands reached around to unbutton your pants. Then she dipped a hand in, following the plane of your belly. She smiled against your neck. “No panties. You little minx!” She kissed you more.

“You’re so wet,” she cooed. Her fingers easily slipped through your slick and tugged your clit. You moaned around Javy from her touch. “That’s it.” Natasha’ voice was sultry in your ear. Almost involuntary, your hips began to match her rhythm as she sandwiched your clit between her fingers and slid them back and forth.

You moaned around Javy’s cock again. This time, you gagged a little. “Holy, shit.” Javy’s breath hitched again. “Nat, tell her how good she is.” His voice was strained.

“But baby, do you want her to take you to completion? So soon?” Natasha asked.

“You decide,” he responded in a single breath.

Natasha’s hand disappeared from between your legs. You were disappointed at the loss of stimulation. But her hand soon was tugging your roots, easing you away from Javy. Her other hand replaced your mouth, sliding up and down Javy’s length.

“I didn’t think you could look prettier, but you're gorgeous after sucking his cock.” You felt yourself clench around nothing at her compliment. She also swallowed your whimpers as she covered your mouth with hers.

Once again, you were in Natasha’s lap, grinding against her thigh as she licked into your mouth. She had one hand down the back of your pants, palming your ass while the other was still pumping Javy. You’d managed to get your hands up her shirt and were massaging her through her bra.

“Fuck!” You broke apart as Javy sprung off the couch. He hauled you up by the elbow, and Natasha quickly followed. You stumbled and Natasha helped steady you with a hand on your hip as Javy led the three of you to what you assumed was Natasha’s bedroom.

He let his hand slide down your arm until your hand was in his. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, pulling you until you were tucked to his chest. You’d been looking at his lips the whole time and met his gaze, giving him a small nod. His kiss was softer than Nat’s. Javy’s palm came to rest on your cheek. When you parted, he let his thumb glide across your bottom lip.

Natasha stepped behind you and slid a hand back into your unfastened pants. Her chin rested on your shoulder. You looked back at her and turned to face her. She smiled and kissed you before walking you backward toward the bed. You let yourself fall onto the mattress when your knees hit the edge. Natasha helped you shimmy out of your pants.

Before you could move, she was on her knees between yours, placing kisses on your inner thighs. She held your gaze as she slipped one of your legs over her shoulder, and pushed the other back for better access. “Relax,” she said between kisses. You watched her. Your heart seemed like it might pound right out of your chest onto the floor.

She held your gaze as she placed the lightest kiss on your cleft. Then, her tongue dipped between your folds. You exhaled with pleasure as her broad tongue glided the length of your clit and then narrowed into your hole. Her free hand found yours and entwined your fingers as she tongued you.

You couldn’t help the moans escaping you. You also couldn’t keep your back on the bed. Only Natasha’s hand was keeping you grounded as you writhed above her.

Unnoticed, Javy made his way over to the bed. He shed his clothing and slid beside you. You turned to look at him. He placed a sweet kiss on your forehead, then your nose and finally pressed his lips to yours. Again, his hand found yours. He and Natasha both supported you as you moaned and arched your back off the bed. That delicious tension was building low in your stomach. You wanted Natasha to get you there so bad.

“Javy,” Your breathing was ragged. “Put your cock in my mouth.” There was a pause. “Please.” He let out a light laugh as he maneuvered to cradle your head and slip himself into your mouth. You moaned as his tip stretched your cheek. Languidly, he continued to thrust into your mouth sometimes hitting your cheek and sometimes the back of your throat.

Javy and Natasha fell into complementary rhythms. “C’mon, come for me,” she coaxed you. She switched to two fingers pumping in and out of you, making sure to hit that spongy spot each time. You felt your vision fading as your orgasm grew nearer.

Finally, you tumbled over the edge with Javy’s cock filling your mouth, Natsha’s fingers stuffed in your pussy and her mouth sucking your clit. It felt like your whole body came off the bed as you writhed and moaned. Javy and Natasha held your hands through it all.

As you came back to your senses, you heard them praising you. You were laying between the pair as their fingers softly skimmed your curves. You felt flush as you looked at Natasha. “That was amazing.” She smiled in response. “Maybe the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Nat definitely knows a thing or two,” Javy added. You turned to look at him. He had the proudest grin.

Natasha’s soft laugh drew your attention back to her. “Javy’s no slouch.” It was cute to hear them talk up each other.

“Can I try to repay the favor?” you asked.

“Gladly.” Natasha smirked and leaned in to kiss you. Before it got too heated, she broke it to ditch her clothing. Quickly, she returned to you, palming your breasts and rolling your nipples until they hardened.

Curious, you dropped your mouth to her nipple and swirled your tongue around it until it peaked. You showed the other the same attention and then alternated between sucking on each. Natasha arched into your affection. Her hand tangled in your hair as you pleasured her.

Javy watched you two before slipping off the bed. He reached for you and dipped his hands into the hinges of your thighs to position you on your knees at the end of the bed. You moaned and released Natasha with a smack. Before Javy pulled you away, you placed a kiss on each pert nipple. Natasha followed you, nestling her hips into your arms, so you could wrap your arms around her legs and easily bury your face in her pussy.

Javy lined himself up behind you, sliding him length between your cheeks, and then he slid his tip through your puffy, soaked folds. He grunted, letting his pelvis hit your ass.

You canted forward slightly, bumping your nose into Natasha. She softly chuckled as you gasped. The tip of your nose was now wet. She looked at you and then dropped her gaze to herself. Your eyes followed to see her middle and index fingers spreading her lips. “Oh!” You watched as her fingers slid down her clit and disappeared inside her.

She and Javy exchanged looks above you as he pushed himself into you. A gasp escaped you as Javy slowly sank into you. You spread your knees wider enjoying his thickness. He kneaded your ass as he let you adjust to him.

“Doesn’t he feel amazing?” Nat asked as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of herself. “Javy, is her pussy amazing?”

“Yeah, baby. So tight. So warm.” As he found a pace he liked, one hand moved to your clit. The other found purchase on the bed as he leaned over you to kiss Natasha. She happily sat forward to press her mouth to his.

“Oh. My. God.” You said with each thrust. Javy continued to draw tight circles on your clit. Fists filled with bedding, you braced yourself the best you could. You were still bumping into Natasha occasionally.

Finally she pulled away from Javy and got back in her initial position. “I can’t wait any longer, can you please put your pretty mouth on my pussy?”

“Will you tell me what to do?” you asked innocently. She moaned, turned on by your naivety.

“Of course.” She winked at you.

As you lowered your head, Javy thrust just right to hit your G spot. Your breath hitched and a curt moan left you. Attentive, he repeated his actions and you rewarded him with more moans.

Natasha couldn’t stand it anymore, she laced her fingers in your trusses and guided your lips to her heat. “Stick your tongue out. Flat.” You did as you were told and Natasha ground her slit against it.

She sighed and continued stimulating herself on you. Enjoying the sensations at both ends, you felt the tension in your belly building again.

“Suck me.” Natasha let go of your hair and guided you until your mouth was on her. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips flush to her clit and sucked. She tossed her head back as you applied more suction.

Instinctually, you slid two fingers into her hole. She gasped and began to roll her hips in tandem with your fingers pumping in and out. You loved the silky feeling of her on your fingers.

Resting your mouth, you pressed the pad of your thumb to Natasha’s clit. You never had your fingers in a pussy other than your own. Wanting to please Natasha, and curious, you changed your angle with each probe. Finally, you found that rubbery patch on her upper wall.

Her breath hitched and she squeezed around your fingers. You zeroed in, come-hithering your digits against that spot and putting your mouth on her.

“You’re a natural.” She moaned as she put her hand on the back of your head and pressed herself against your face. You hummed against her pussy, and she clenched her thighs around your head.

Javy helped hold Natasha’s thighs wide. Still buried between your legs, Javy leaned over top of you and placed a hand on each of her kneecaps. You alternated between sucking on her clit and dipping your tongue into her while he held her open.

“Keep doing it,” Natasha whined, closing her eyes and biting her lip. Suddenly, her eyes shot open. “I want to ride your face. Javy, flip her over,” she commanded.

No time to react, you yelped as Javy easily rolled you on your back. He slipped back into your pussy and moved at a listless pace. His hands traversed your hips and belly.

Meanwhile, Natasha demanded you stick out your tongue as she straddled your head while facing Javy. Immediately, she began to slide back and forth against your broad tongue. “Yes! Yes!” she chanted. You could tell she was close to her peak. To help push her closer, Javy put his month over one of her nipples and palmed the other. Your hands moved to grope her ass and spread her wider.

Nat stopped moving, and you and Javy took over. You laved your tongue all over her, sucking her lips, nipping her clit and planting kisses here and there. Natasha gasped when you began to tongue fuck her. She moaned and bounced a little against your face, which was the final piece to her twitching against your mouth.

You continued spreading Natasha and plunging your tongue into her heat. The task proved difficult when Javy guided Natasha’s head between the two of you. She stroked your clit with her tongue and fingers. Meanwhile, Javy began to pick his pace back up, thrusting into you.

The tension in your stomach tightened, and you were on the verge of overstimulated. Your head lolled back on the bed and your back arched as your second orgasm washed over you. Natasha and Javy worked you through it.

About to cum himself, Javy said, “Look at me,” to Natasha. She stared at him with doe eyes as he pulled out of you. A few pumps of his fist, and warm viscous ropes glazed Nat’s face. She gasped as the last drops hit her skin. Javy helped her climb off you, and he encouraged you to clean her up.

She knelt beside you on the bed, palms planted. You swiped two fingers across her bottom lip, before pushing them into her mouth. She licked them cleaned, and then sucked them before giving you your hand back. You then cleaned the rest of her face with your tongue.

Natasha pulled you on top of her and lured you into a makeout session. While the two of you kissed until your lips were numb, Javy snuck away.

He returned just as you separated. He cleaned you up with warm damp washcloths and planted a kiss on each of you when he was done. He also brought you water with electrolytes. Then, he tossed two of his t-shirts at you while he pulled on boxers.

The three of you climbed into bed, he and Natasha on either side of you. Natasha rested her head on your chest and lazily drew circles on your thigh under the sheets while you were tucked into Javy’s side. He pressed kisses to your temple every now and then, and his fingers played with Natasha’s hair.

You were nearly asleep when Natasha pressed a couple kisses to your jaw. You moaned. “I don’t think I can do another round tonight.”

“But you want another round? Or two?” Natasha’s tone was hopeful. Your heart fluttered at the thought. Tonight was easily the best sex you had ever had. Why wouldn’t you want to do it again?

Javy’s hand rubbed your shoulder and bicep. “I can speak for both of us when I say we’d love another round. Many rounds.” He kissed your forehead.

“Let’s sleep on it and discuss over breakfast,” Natasha suggested as she settled back into her spot with her head on your chest. “Javy’s a unicorn in the kitchen.” The three of you giggled before exchanging goodnight kisses and nodding off to sleep.

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armpirate · 1 year ago

Text

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 12

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy.

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Jungkook moved around the gym, checking that some of the people he was training were doing the exercises as he asked them to. But while he was there physically, his mind was somewhere else -to the point of almost making it seem like he wasn't even there either.

He remembered how he came across Y/n in their landing earlier that day. It was Wednesday, but her schedule for sure didn't seem like one of her regular weekday's schedule. It was later than she usually stepped out of her apartment, and it was too early compared to when she usually stepped out on the weekends to do whatever she did -if she ever left at all. As his smile dropped and his eyes followed her to the elevator, he could point out the small blue bag she was carrying, and that almost was dragged through the floor by how low it was.

Where was she going?

Could it be that he crossed the line the other day and pushed her to move out? But that bag was too small for that.

Jungkook shook his head, trying to push those thoughts and questions away. He didn't care, it wasn't his business. And, if she left, he for sure would throw a party after he finally was able to get rid of her -even if it was only for a few days.

While the thought of Y/n slowly vanished away, the ringtone coming from his phone helped him distract himself from a thought he didn't want to have.

Not again that weird number.

They had been calling him every few days, only to not reply back whenever he answered the call. At first he thought it was someone mistaken his phone number from the one thay actually wanted to call, until later he just thought it was probably someone messing up with him.

He would've blocked it from making any more calls if it hadn't been for the sudden thought of it possibly being someone in charge of those fights. Because, in case they were, he needed to be approachable to keep getting invited to those.

—Who is it? —he answered with a tired tone.

There was a loud sigh coming from his deepest guts, trying to keep his calm when he was answered back with silence -as usual. It was starting to get tiresome to be living in that situation, at least, three times a week.

—Look, you're starting to bust my balls —he barked—. If you have something to say, say it now. Otherwise I'll find where you are and...

—Jungkook —a feminine voice interrupted him.

His body completely froze when he heard that familiar voice, and sad tone. He could've expected anyone else, but her.

—What... —he gulped the thick knot on his throat to be able to speak properly— What do you want?

—I need to talk to you —she softly said—. I know you hate me, I know you want to know nothing about me, but I really need to see you. Please.

—No —Jungkook quickly shook his head—. I don't care what it is you need to talk with me, I don't want to hear it, and I don't want to see you.

—Jungkook... —she almost begged.

—I told you ten years ago, you don't exist to me.

As soon as he was aware of the silence in the gym, looking up to find the three young guys standing in front of him as they listened to his conversation, Jungkook sighed, making his way to the front door.

—I don't know how many times I need to tell you: you're dead to me —he roughly said—. Stop trying to reach me out. And don't dare show up in front of me, never in your life.

—But...

He ended the call before he could hear what she had to say. She was a total stranger, or so she worked hard to be one for him. He didn't have the patience, nor the strength to deal with anything that had something to do with her.

Not in that moment, not in that lifetime.

Ten years ago he erased his mother from his life, and it'd stay like that for so much longer.

The silence was so heavy that she was sure it'd take a toll on her own balance if she ever tried to get up from the table. That house was usually so cheerful and happy, so carefree and safe, but there was a strange feeling in the air that day. She thought she'd get used to it, or that she'd be mentalized by it when she got on the bus. It was always like that once a year, and she couldn't ever get used to it.

It was always like that when they returned from the cemetery.

The smile that was always on her mother's face because of Mitchell also turned into a straight line, and her eyes reflected the pain she went through exactly five years back in that exact same living room they were sitting at.

Noah's death was difficult to handle for most of them. Even Mitchell was devastated when his wife broke into a broken cry when the doctor walked to her with the heartbreaking news that her son didn't make it out of the surgery. His brain was so damaged that nothing could save him and the surgery would only put him in a thin line between life and death. Yet all of them took the risk, because there still was the small glimpse of hope that made them believe Noah would make it out alive.

It wasn't like they had any other choice either way. He entered that vegetative state after the ambulance picked him up, that didn't matter what would happen, he wouldn't ever be the same again. At least, with the surgery, they all thought he'd wake up again.

—I'll prepare some tea —Mitchell softly said, covering his wife's hands with his—. Do you need something else?

Instead of speaking, Y/n's mother shook her head slowly, not moving her eyes from the concrete spot on the floor she had been fixing her gaze on for the past two hours.

—Do you need anything? —he turned to the two girls sitting on the couch opposite to the one they were sitting at.

—No, thank you —Y/n answered with a tiny smile.

—No.

Despite both saying the same, Hannah's tone was condescending, along with the annoyed look she gave him and that made Mitchell uncomfortable. It was usually like that. For some reason, her sister always had a tough time whenever she had to deal with their mother's husband. It didn't matter what he did, it didn't matter what he said, Hannah would always show off how much she disliked him.

—Could you, at least, make an effort today? —Y/n asked her with a weak voice.

—I didn't do anything.

—Mitchell is having a hard time as we all are right now. You should stop being a bitch to him at least for one day.

—Girls —their mother finally spoke, with the first weak warning.

—Well, I'm sorry, but I don't understand what he's doing here —Hannah ignored their mother—. Isn't it enough to celebrate Noah's death anniversary, but I also have to sit here with someone that has zero to do with this?

—Nothing to do...? —Y/n had to stop herself after she tried to understand what her sister was saying— He's married to our mom, he's been in our lives for so long, he was close to Noah, and you're asking why he's with our family? He's part of our family —she pointed out.

—Oh, dad can't show face here, but Mitchell can?

—Dad abandoned us, he left us behind and didn't care about what we went through. But Mitchell did care. I'm sorry your privileged ass never had to go through any of that.

Hannah had always been the lucky one.

When their father left, without looking back, without caring about all the debts he left pending on their mother alone, the whole stability of the house fell onto her shoulders. Hannah was too busy living her uni days to ever know what it was to see their mother at the edge of depression every single day, with the smile and the spark in her eyes disappearing as time went by. Hannah kept going to college, while Y/n and Noah left their studies aside to help their mother when she wasn't able to go on. They did everything they could, they worked every job they found, and it still wasn't enough.

Debts and bills were being paid, but their mother was in such an awful state that it made them both worry about her health every single day -and that it was only hidden under the carpet when Hannah came back home for some holidays.

She never had to live any of that, because she was always protected from it since she wasn't even living at home. Their mother could pull up an act for a few days.

At least until she met Mitchell, and everything started to seem a little bit brighter every day. Thanks to him Y/n and Noah were able to leave those poor jobs, and she was able to go back to studying; and, most importantly, he gave their mother the wish to live every single day again. He was there when he needed her the most, of course he had every right to go through that mourning with them.

—Y/n! Hannah! Stop —their mother finally got them to stay quiet.

—Hey —all of their eyes were on the man who was waiting by the small arch that connected the living room to the corridor—. I think it'd be better if I stayed in a hotel this week. Hannah is right.

Y/n looked at her mother, trying to get her to react to what was happening, only to see her pressing her lips together with a nervous look in her eyes.

The previous years Hannah didn't even attempt to show up there for that time of the year, she barely even checked on their mother during that day, and the first time she dares to celebrate such an important day, she expects the only person who's always been there to leave.

—Honey, take care, alright? —he kissed his wife's head.

The silence that invaded the house the second after Mitchell left was so heavy and thick that turned twenty minutes into feeling like hours. It was even worse than how it was before he left, which made Y/n wonder if Hannah's problem was actually him or there was something else.

—You always have to be such a drama queen —Hannah rolled her eyes—. It's your fault he left. If you hadn't said anything, nothing would've blown out the way it did.

Y/n bit her lip, nervously trying to hold back all the painful words that were sharpening on the tip of her tongue. She could've said a lot of things, she could've turned that moment into one big fight that would've only made their family distance even more. It wasn't like Hannah cared either way. After that week, she'd probably leave back to Malaysia and forget about everything she'd done there at that moment.

It was like that during her college days, and it would be like that in the present.

—I can't believe you're going to blame me for what you did —she scoffed—. And I can't believe you're selfish to make this day about you either. No one gives a fuck about how you're feeling if it has zero to do with Noah. I don't give a fuck. You've always done this, and you show zero regrets after —her eyes rolled, trying to control the teardrops that were forming in her eyes—. And I can't believe you'd rather do what she wants than standing up for yourself —she turned at her mother—. What's the worst she will do? Leave? That's nothing new. She's just like dad, so I bet it's just a matter of time.

—Stop —her mother finally spoke, standing up to face the two of them—, the two of you. This is the only day I needed you to be supportive, and you ended up fighting about who's right and wrong. It isn't the moment for you to discuss these things, yet here you are doing it.

—So, to keep a peaceful day, you'll just do whatever she wants? —Y/n looked at her mother in disbelief— I understand what you want, but kicking someone out of their own home and dictating how people should mourn isn't the way either —her tone was calm—. And if this is the way you're going to do it, I can perfectly do it like this back in my house.

At first, it just seemed like a threat, until Y/n started picking up her things, only stopping to look at her mother. If Hannah was going to stay there, the best thing she could do was to leave and let her mother have the peaceful day she was seeking -and that she deserved.

Her arms wrapped gently around her neck, giving her a soft hug before she stepped back to hang the strip of her bag over her shoulder.

—I'll call you tomorrow —she assured her.

Her mother didn't try to stop her, or to understand why she was leaving that hostile place the house had become, she just let her go, seeing her body disappearing behind the big main door.

On her way back home in the bus, Y/n kept wondering if she had taken the right decision and if she wouldn't end up regretting it shortly after she arrived back in the city. Her family hadn't looked so broken since Noah died. And suddenly all those feelings were coming back in her system slowly, getting over all of her thoughts and reactions before she could avoid it. Although she held them in, keeping her eyes from dropping the tears piling up and her mouth to let out that whine she had been holding back.

She had enough that day, she just wanted to close herself in her apartment and let everything that happened throughout the day die in her pillow. She just needed a calm night after such a stressful day.

She pressed the button of the elevator a few times, seeing no reaction from it. Usually, the light of the button would light up and would emit a sound to let it be known the lift would arrive to the floor shortly, but it didn't react that night.

Actually, there wasn't the slightest hint of it moving.

Tiredly, she looked up at the stairs at the left of the metallic huge box, giving up trying and just getting to her floor by walking. It was tiring, it wasn't what she actually needed, but it was better than waiting for something that wouldn't happen.

She remained impassive when the click of the door behind her reached her ears after she got to her floor, thinking that ignoring him would be enough and would get him to leave.

—Is the rule only for me? —he teased her— You should have got here with the elev...

—Are you glued to the door? —Y/n asked, still walking to her apartment.

—I wasn't waiting for you —he replied back—. I was just making sure you followed the rules you imposed. You can't be so unfair. If it had been me, you'd have set it all on fire. Am I wrong? I bet you're so used to doing whatever you want that you just don't care about what others' feel.

She didn't care about his words, she had learnt to turn his voice into a blank noise when it was convenient for her. And in that moment, she didn't want to waste energy fighting with him over something so stupid as the division she made on the floor.

But her silence, and how she didn't turn to him to confront him, didn't go unnoticed by him. It just wasn't the way she usually reacted.

—Are you okay?

Stopping a few steps away from her door, right when she was ready to sneak her hand inside her bag to reach her keys, she broke.

It was all silent, and suddenly he heard a snort that hinted at what was happening. Her shoulders shook in rhythm with her hiccups while she cried, and Jungkook suddenly panicked at the idea of him being the cause of it.

—Hey, it's not that serious —he started walking to her—. I was just being an asshole to you, like always —his laugh sounded nervous.

His hands moved over her body without getting to touch her, trying to think what could be the best move he could pull right there. He didn't want to be invasive, but she clearly needed somebody to comfort her. But what was the right way to comfort her?

She just needed some support, something that made her feel like things weren't going as bad as she thought, she just needed something stable among that chaos. Her hug took him by surprise, having his arms hung in the air for a few minutes as he tried to realize what was going on.

He had never had to comfort anyone, he had never had to hug somebody to wash the pain away, and he never had someone doing it for him either, so hearing her sobs and feeling his plaid shirt getting wet on his shoulder by her tears was a new experience that he didn't think he liked.

But he did.

His arms slowly wrapped around her shoulders, while his palm rubbed against her upper back to comfort her, trying to get those powerful whines and continuous tears stop. Her face was hidden in his chest, and only then she noticed how the musky scent from his cologne was more powerful than the tobacco stink impregnated on his clothes.

She didn't even know he smoked.

She actually didn't know anything other than the little war they had going on, and some of the small things she had found out casually. Finally feeling calm enough to break some sense into her mind, with realization hitting her like a truck when she wasn't blinded by how lonely and hopeless she felt. She was so fooled by how good that embrace felt that, for one second, she forgot who she was hugging like her life depended on it.

—If you tell anyone about this, I'll make you eat your own guts —she threatened, with her head still hiding in the fabric of his shirt.

—I won't tell anyone —he assured her.

Jungkook didn't feel the need to hear her explanation, and it somehow made her felt relieved. Because he gave her a safe space where she didn't need to justify herself. He was just there, confused at how he wasn't feeling awkward about it, but warmed but how he was of help.

—This feels... weirdly good —she admitted.

—Uh-hum —he nodded—. Although... maybe...

While he tried to speak, Y/n could feel one of his hands sneaking all the way down her back, having her step back and pushing him away before he could reach the place he had aimed.

—You're a jerk.

—I thought it'd help make you feel better and forget about everything.

—Oh my god, you're sick —she whispered, slowly going back to her usual self—. At first I thought you were an asshole, but now I'm really convinced that you have a disease.

—Could be —he seemed to be serious for one second—. Maybe I need some of your medicine.

There was no reply back to that comment, other than the sound her door made against the door frame.

—Oh, come on. I was just trying to cheer you up.

Although she wasn't angry at him, or disappointed. She wasn't even disgusted. Instead, she found herself smiling.

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